Love Broken

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Love Broken Page 13

by J. D. Hollyfield


  “Wow, well, then you two ladies enjoy. I’m going to get to know Amber a bit more. Or is it Kelly? These pen names. But I hear she writes”—he bends forward as we both lean into him—“erotica. Bet she has an imagination a man can appreciate.” He pulls away, winks at us, and walks straight into the damn dance floor.

  My mouth falls to the floor, as we both gape at his tight ass sway as he disappears into the crowd.

  “That Amber is one lucky bitch. I wouldn’t mind adding Charlie Bates to my bucket list.”

  “Tell me about it…” Wait, what? I turn, smacking her in the arm.

  “Hey!”

  Mine.

  Shit.

  “I mean, ew! No way. You can do waaay better. He probably has some sort of disease. Model disease. Yeah, model disease. Stay clear.” Shut up. Right now.

  That little weasel. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to test out Amber. Because he hasn’t left the goddamn dance floor! My jealousy spikes with every song that comes on and that smile he’s carrying doesn’t leave his stupid face. He looks like he’s enjoying her. And she can dance. Like really dance. The way her hips move back and forth, her hands all whipping her hair around, I mean, how does someone learn how to do that obnoxious dance? And why the ever-loving fuck is Chase enjoying it?

  I thought he was just trying to get under my skin when he made that comment. I mean, so I didn’t confirm I wasn’t going to hook up with a random tonight, but he had to know I wouldn’t. But did he? I continue to stand at the bar, getting myself all worked up over his actions. He hasn’t even looked over my way once since he walked away. Doesn’t he even care what I’m thinking? What if I was at the bar sucking face with a dude? Would he even care?

  It’s like he’s tempting me to do something about it. With every hip grab, he’s daring me to come and claim him. Which I will not do. Who does he think I am? A lying dog who will comply with his threats? Two can play at this game of who really wants who, bullshit.

  I slam my drink on the bar, startling Kristen. “Let’s dance,” I state, starting toward the dance floor.

  “Uh, I thought you don’t dance,” I hear her state the truth as she catches up to me.

  I push my way through the crowd, finding a group of guys in the middle of the dance floor. Perfectly aligned next to Chase.

  Fucker.

  “You guys wanna dance?” I yell over the loud music, offering my sweetest smile. I’m a little drunk and have no game, so not sure what that smile really comes off as. Either way it works, because we get a few hell yeahs from the crowd, and Kristen is grabbed by the waist by a cute guy. Tall, dark hair. Just up her alley. The guy I addressed takes claim on me. He isn’t really my type, no blazing green eyes, perfect dirty-blond hair. He doesn’t look at me the way that makes my knees beg to buckle. But the second I get a quick glimpse of Chase in my side vision, I realize this guy will do just fine.

  I grab his hand and pull him to me. Kristen is right when I say I don’t dance. Mainly because I don’t know how to, so this game of who can make who jealous more, quickly starts blowing up in my face, since I look like I’m having a seizure over trying to get hot and heavy on the dance floor. The guy grabs at my hips and “Whoa!” I squeal as he whips me around, throwing my butt into his groin.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll do all the moves for us,” he yells into my ear and starts a slow, but inappropriate, as they call it, bumping and grinding into my ass. I’ve suddenly forgotten about Chase and our game, because I’m momentarily mortified at what’s happening. Homeboy is swaying me back and forth like a rag doll, sounds leaving his mouth, causing the tequila to churn in my stomach. I look over at Kristen for help, but she seems to be enjoying herself and the grinding. Shit. Before I allow this dude to get off on dry humping my ass, I pull away and excuse myself, claiming major bathroom break.

  I finally get my turn, since chicks’ bathroom has only one stall, and shut the door, thankful for the privacy. I don’t get the opportunity to lock it, because it’s suddenly pushed open. When I turn to give hell to whoever doesn’t know how to wait their damn turn, I realize that person is Chase, as he pushes himself into the bathroom and shuts the door.

  Then locks it.

  “Seriously, what’s your deal with women’s bathrooms?” I snap, trying not to stare at his mouth, his tight shirt, his eyes. Those damn fucking eyes. He doesn’t answer me, but prowls in my direction until he has me backed up against the wall.

  “Are we done plaything this game?”

  I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  “Not sure what you mean.”

  He brings up his warm hands and, placing them on my hips, he drags them down until he hits the bottom of my skirt. “You know exactly what game I’m talking about.”

  Admit nothing.

  “No idea what you’re talking about.” I close my eyes as his palms hit my bare legs, squeezing my thighs as he brings his hands back up my legs.

  “The game where you pretend you’re here tonight to get lucky and make me jealous. The game where I pretend I want someone else until we both finally admit we only want each other.” His hands reach the lining of my panties, capturing the thin strap around his fingers, and begins tugging them down my legs.

  “Chase, wha-what are you doing?” My voice is thick with need, and as soon as I get my shit together, I’m going to push him off me.

  Which doesn’t look to be anytime soon.

  Somehow, I willingly step out of my panties and watch with hooded lids as he sticks my thong into his pocket. He steps forward, leaving zero space between us.

  “Will it help if I went first?” he says, his breath a warm delight against my cheeks.

  I nod.

  He leans in, his lips grazing mine. “Right now, I’m insane with jealousy at the way that fucker handled you. I wanted to break each finger that touched you.”

  Okay. That was so hot.

  He grazes his lips to the corner of my mouth, offering me just a tease. “I think it’s time I stake my claim.” One brush of his lips to mine. “You’re mine, Katie.” Another kiss, this one more pressure. “And no one else’s.”

  Okay. He’s got me.

  My hands are up and locking into his hair. His hands are around my hips, lifting me up. My legs wrap around his waist and our lips collide into one another.

  Both sets of hands grabbing, pulling, ripping to get to one another. My skirt is up and over my hips, my hands frantically tearing at his pants.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this here,” I pant, getting his zipper down and releasing his large erection. The feel of how hard and smooth he is in my palm overrides the wrongness of what we’re doing. Chase pushes his jeans down and grabs for his cock. He places it exactly where it’s begging to be, and without further thought pushes inside me.

  “Oh God,” I moan, pulling at Chase’s hair as he frantically thrusts in and out of me. He’s not taking his time, nor is he being gentle. He’s not trying to woo me; he’s making a statement.

  “Mine,” he grunts, taking my breath away with each brutal kiss he offers me. I can’t control the swirling wave of possession also building in my chest. The electric current in my core. I press my fingernails deeper into his skin, bringing him closer to me.

  A firework of sensations blasts to every one of my nerve endings and my orgasm detonates through me. Chase is right behind me, pushing one last time, before I feel his hot release inside me.

  Panting, I say, “I can’t believe we just had sex in a public bathroom.”

  Chase is trying to catch his breath, splaying wet kisses down my neck.

  “It was a must do,” he replies, quickly kissing my lips and allowing my legs to drop. He pulls out, and I wobble, trying to get my bearings. I feel the wetness sliding down my thigh and groan.

  “Oh my God, we really did just have sex in a public bathroom. With a line outside!” While I’m completely mortified, Chase doesn’t seem affected. He laughs and grabs for the paper towel dispenser, ri
pping off a few sheets and helping me clean up. “And why are you just laughing?”

  Of course, banging on the door cuts his answer short. His non-answer, that is. I jump into action, pushing his hands away and cleaning myself up. I look in the mirror and “fuck.” I look like I just got fucked in a public bathroom. Chase laughs again, and I’m fighting to keep from punching him clear out.

  “You know we could have waited till we got home to do this. Acting like horny teenagers isn’t normally my thing,” I say, pulling my skirt down and fixing my hair.

  Chase looks perfect as always, not a hair out of place. He washes his hands and turns to me, an approving smile on his face. “It was apparent I made a point. Which, by the way, you just orgasmed. I did also. Now when you go out there and if that douche from A Night at the Roxbury tries to come near you, he will smell me all over you.”

  My mouth falls open just as his smile grows wider. “You… You…”

  The banging on the door startles me again, and it’s when Kristen’s voice seeps through the door that I go into complete panic mode. “Jesus! It’s like she has a radar anytime I’m around you!”

  “Katie, are you in there? Everything okay?”

  Shit!

  “Better let your friend know everything’s okay,” he says, ducking as I lift my hand to smack him.

  “Katie?”

  I push Chase into the stall and slam the door. “Don’t come out.” And I do one last hopeless adjustment of my outfit and hair, then open the door.

  “Hey, what… are you okay?”

  “Yeah, fine. Those tacos, though… Man. You do not want to go in there,” I stress and pull her shoulder to lead her away from the bathroom.

  “But I swear I heard… Were you moaning in there?”

  God, yes.

  “No! I was watching a video while pooping. Things kids post nowadays.” I don’t make eye contact. It’s just not necessary. I drag her back to the bar and insist the next round be on me.

  And the round after that.

  And after that.

  There is an entire marching band inside my head, beating on my brain. And they are horrible. No real beat or rhythm. Just bang, bang, pow, kick on my head, causing a splitting feeling to rip through my frontal lobe.

  I groan as I flip onto my side, realizing I’m partially lying on a warm body. Oh God. Please be someone I know. Please be… I open one eye to a body, thank God, I recognize. Chase is sleeping, his mouth slightly parted as his chest rises and falls.

  Shit. How did I get home last night? I close my eye because the light is making the banging worse and I rest my head on his chest. Did I walk? Did Kristen come with me? Did…

  “Good morning.”

  Rats. I take in a deep breath and reopen my eye. “Hi,” I respond nervously. I would have never thought in a million years I would ever forget a night of passion with Chase Green, but this fine morning, I cannot, for the life of me, remember the end of my night.

  “How you feeling?”

  Yeah, I feel like that’s a trick question.

  “Good, and you?” Gonna reverse psychology this.

  “I feel fine, but that’s because I didn’t drink the bar out of tequila last night.”

  I groan again, embarrassed, and shut my eyes. “Tell me I didn’t do anything embarrassing.”

  He stalls.

  Shit, he stalls!

  “Well, define embarrassing?”

  Oh God. I’m never drinking again.

  I lift my head. Give him a good once-over and hope I’m playing my cards right. “Did you at least enjoy the mind-blowing sex we had when we got home last night?” I can only assume because I’m naked.

  “By mind-blowing, you mean, you undressing yourself and passing out on top of me while licking my chest like a lollipop?”

  I gasp.

  He’s lying.

  He better be lying.

  Oh God, he doesn’t look like he’s lying.

  “You’re lying, right?”

  “No. Can’t say that I am. But that was all before you tried to do a sexy dance for me on the bed, managing to fall off it twice.”

  I give him the no, I didn’t look.

  He just wiggles his eyebrows, giving me the oh, yes, you did look in return.

  What’s wrong with me? Since when do I get blacked out drunk and make an idiot out of myself? Well, a lot so… Shut up, consciousness.

  “It’s okay. I thought it was cute. You were very determined.”

  I know he’s trying to hold in his laughter. I dig my nails into his bare chest as his laughter explodes. He flips me onto my back. With my hands now captured and being lifted above my head, I have no choice but to look up at Chase. His eyes still hold that sleepy look, his hair a sexy mess. “Stop laughing at me.” I pout, still managing to wiggle my hips, waking up his lower parts.

  “I’m not. I think you’re cute.”

  “Cute! Great. Little sisters, close friends, and bunnies are cute,” I reply with a pout.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  Okay, I’ll take that. Going a little overboard, but it shuts me up. He bends down, meeting my lips for an extra juicy morning kiss. His tongue dives into my mouth, stealing my breath. It doesn’t take long before his palms are caressing their way down my arm and latching onto my naked breast. His touch on my flesh awakens every part of me. His mouth numbing the pounding in my head and the hardness resting against my hip, offering me the best morning wake up.

  “So, explain to me these romance books.”

  I ignore him at first, thinking he’s not talking to me, until I realize he is and stop trying to maul his face.

  “Tell you what? I know nothing about them.” I wrap my hands around his neck, pulling him back down. He gives in, kissing me with vengeance until we both need air and starts again.

  “No, I mean how women write romance. Is how they write it, how it feels in real life? Like when I kiss you, do your toes curl and butterflies flutter in your taut tummy?” He smiles, fighting the laughter.

  “Where are you getting your information, Green? That sounds more like indigestion.”

  He kisses me quickly and says, “I was curious, so I read some of the books that I’m on the cover of. The way you women describe sex, with words like hard member or flesh and folds. Is that what you call your pussy in real life?”

  I don’t know how to react right now. First off, he just admitted to reading romance novels. He also just said the word member and folds in the same sentence. “Are you drunk, Chase?” I have to ask.

  “For you,” he responds, nipping at my bottom lip. “I’m being serious. I read a book once, where the male really did a number on the girl. Talked some real raunchy shit. Is that what you want? Lots of spankings and dirty talk?”

  At that I bust out laughing. The mental picture of Chase getting all porn lipped on me.

  “No, I’m not into domination and shit.” Seriously, what books is he reading?

  “Are you sure? Because I feel like I should know these things. Your likes, dislikes. Now that I think of it, you should probably know mine as well.” More quick kisses and a dip to my nipples before he starts firing off question after question.

  “Okay, so question number one. Do you like being tortured in bed?”

  Jesus, starting them blunt. “No! God, what do you take me for?”

  He smiles, approving of my answer. “Okay, good. I’m not sure how good I would be at torturing. Next question. Are you into using weird objects and shit in bed? Hate to admit I read this, but…” He pauses. “The dude used a lot of cucumbers.”

  “You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”

  “Possibly, but I need to know how to please you. Because in the end of these books, they always get the girl. Just covering all my bases.”

  And as cliché as those books are, I’m going to add on to it. Because my heart just melted.

  He wants to get the girl.

  Sigh.

  “You know, you read some pre
tty strange romance books. I’m not into weapons, kink, domination, I don’t own a spreader bar, which may be a shame from what I’ve heard, and I don’t like to be tied up and whipped until I’m on the verge of blackness to get off. I’m, if you haven’t noticed, a simple girl.”

  Staring down at me, he replies, “You are anything but simple, Katie Beller.”

  I might have to pay a fee when I check out because my heart is melting all over this bed! I’m feeling embarrassed by his comment, needing to bring the attention off me.

  “Well, those books are nonsense anyways. All filled with insta-love and froufrou bullshit.”

  “And what is insta-love?”

  “Pfft, you know those stories where the couple meets and instantly they’re in love and can’t be apart? People eat that shit up, but it’s not real. Love doesn’t work like that.”

  His eyes become quiet, but intense. “So, you don’t believe in the whole love at first sight theory?”

  “No. I believe in lust at first sight, sure. But people confuse lust with love. They go jumping into these serious relationships, and when that dies, the love masked by lust crashes down on a theory, leaving one or both parties hurting. People need to take their time figuring out what love is. Not this overnight bullshit.”

  I kind of just went on a tangent, and Chase is looking at me like I said something to hurt him. His playful smile has dulled a tad, no longer reaching his eyes.

  “What? Do you believe in it?” I ask, trying to figure out what just changed in him.

  “I believe that when you know you know. And that people don’t have to know each other for eons of time to form that deepness of feelings for one another.”

  I guffaw. “Are you serious, Green? Where did you get that from? You’ve been reading way too many romance books.” I chuckle, looking at him, but he’s not sharing the humor. “What? What’s wrong? Are you bothered by what I said?”

  He looks troubled. In battle with wanting to say more than what he does.

  The phone starts ringing, but we both ignore it as I watch the fight die, a mask covering his prior face of emotions. “No, of course not,” he replies, but I sense a lack of truth in his response.

 

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