Phoebe: Book One of Broken Girls Series

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  “Th-thanks,” she stammered and some of the tension in the cab disappeared. He heard her take a deep, deep breath before she asked, “And your dad? What does he do?”

  At least they had that in common. “My pops died when I was a baby. But he had his own construction company back in the day.”

  “Adams Construction?”

  “Yeah, why? You’ve heard of it?”

  “My dad was a heavy equipment operator and did work there for awhile before the car accident.” Her tone seemed lighter as she offered that tidbit up.

  “Small world,” he mumbled, grateful she was at least trying to stay engaged.

  “At least in Grantham, it is.” He glanced her way to find she was again smiling although not nearly as brightly as before. “So tell me about your brothers.”

  With his eyes on the road, Ryker talked about Cruz and Max during their growing up years. The different ways they got up in his shit, played pranks and the many times he’d run to their mother for protection as well as to tattle. Skipping ahead he also told her about their company and the job they’d offered him with Black Ice Investigations he’d be starting on Monday.

  “Wow! You’re a computer geek?”

  “Dunno about the geek part, but I know my way around operating systems and can write code pretty well.” While he didn’t want to blow his own horn, especially in light of all he’d lost because of his innate talent when it came to programming, Ryker felt a little flare of pride.

  “So he’s not only hot, manly enough to know a hammer from a wrench but a computer genius as well?” He loved the light teasing note in her voice as well as her words which made the little flare in his chest burn that much brighter. “Man, did I score or what?”

  Pulling the Escalade into one of the small parking lots marked as a ‘scenic point’, Ryker put the car into park before shutting off the engine. They were on an overlook cleared of trees allowing them to see the folding foothills, one behind another all the way down into the valley where Grantham lay. He tried picking out some of the buildings in town but from the distance he couldn’t be sure what was what and wished he’d thought to bring along one of the pair of binoculars gathering dust in his mom’s basement.

  Using the buttons for the automatic windows, he rolled them down until a not-quite cool, but not-too-hot breeze swept through the cab. Without thinking, he again reached for Phoebe’s fingers and intertwined them with his own. “This is some kind of ugly, huh?”

  “Yep. One of the awful variety,” she agreed on a giggle as her fingers tightened on his own letting him know she found the view as wondrous as he did.

  Without thinking about it, he shifted closer until his elbow met hers on the console, their clasped hands dangling over the gear shift. She turned her head and smiled up at him, making his heart do a double bump at the beauty he saw in her eyes. “I think I like you, Phoebe Marquette.”

  She didn’t hesitate, but immediately gave her response. “And I think I like you, Ryker Adams.”

  “Ahh…okay. You don’t know my full name, or at least the last part of it.”

  Her smile only faded a bit as she tilted her head and gave the tiniest of frowns. “I don’t? Wasn’t that the name you gave Dr. Singh?”

  “Yeah, I did. But you gotta remember, I was in pain and totally freaked about getting sewn up.”

  She nodded as her frown eased before she rolled her unengaged hand towards her chest, signifying he needed to explain further.

  “My name is Ryker Benjamin Guerrero Santiago hyphen Adams.”

  “Hyphen?”

  “Yeah, my mom is Spanish and decided all of us boys needed to celebrate and embrace our Latino heritage. Thus…” he said, sweeping a hand outward. “The hyphen.”

  “Was your dad Latino, too?”

  “With a last name of like Adams?” He laughed at the scrunchy face she made when he teased her. “Not fully, no. His mother was Hispanic, but my abuelo, my grandfather on my father’s side was more of a mix of Northern European.” The truth of the matter was, Ryker was never told the specifics of his father’s racial blend. All he knew was his pops had enough Spanish in him to get permission to marry the old man’s oldest daughter.

  Phoebe turned her gaze back to the amazing view and sighed. “I don’t really know what my heritage is nationality-wise. But I suspect I’m just a typical American, a kind of a mutt made up of fore-bearers from a lot of different countries.”

  “A unique blend that makes you singularly just ‘Phoebe’ and a total entity all by yourself.” He didn’t know what made him say that. In fact, as he listened to his words hang in the air of the cab of the SUV, he realized they were deep and Ryker had never considered himself that way.

  Smart, yes.

  Deep? Not so much.

  But it had been the right words to say and he knew it by the way her face took on a softness she hadn’t shown him in any of the times they’d been together before. A gentleness that held an edge of yearning as she whispered, “Thank you, Ryker. I never thought of it like that.”

  Bringing their clasped hands up to his face, he carefully rotated them until the back of Phoebe’s palm faced him. And he brought it to his mouth for a quick kiss, his eyes steadfastly holding hers as he murmured, “Da nada, mi belleza. But I only speak the truth as I see it.”

  Everything within urged him to lean the few inches forward so he could kiss her. To press his lips against the fullness of hers before allowing his tongue to plunder and savor the inside of her mouth, which he somehow knew would be sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted. Her warm breath, as it caressed his jaw, attested to it, adding another layer to the want he held inside. A desire so strong he was afraid it would scare her if unleashed.

  So he kept himself in check, only allowing a portion of what he felt to leak out as he stared into her eyes. But it must’ve been enough because as their gazes held, her tongue emerged and she gave her lower lip a long, slow lick. A move so innocently done, his cock went to full and throbbing at the sight.

  He bit back a groan and told himself to drop his eyes, to sit back and pull away from her before he did something stupid enough to make her draw away first. But he didn’t. Didn’t want to do anything to stop the taut, fevered flow of emotion holding them both captive and enthralled in that moment.

  Fuck it, he thought as he shifted his face and chest until their mouths were aligned, his eyes lingering on the remaining trail of wet after her tongue-swipe.

  Ryker closed his eyes at the last second, right before his lips lightly landed on hers. Holding still for the tiniest moment, her lower lip quivered which he took as a signal to move, so he did. Gently sliding his mouth over hers, he took the time to explore, to memorize the shape of each lip and their silken texture.

  It was wondrously torturous kiss—done so slow in order not to scare her and light enough to add more fuel to the fire inside him.

  But with just one little taste, he wanted more.

  Pressing a bit more firmly and slightly turning his head to the side, Ryker brought his tongue into action, swirling it over the seam of her mouth, wetting it before again gliding his lips through the wetness.

  She emitted a soft tiny mewl before her mouth relaxed enough to let him inside.

  And once there, all bets were off.

  All the softness, the innocent sweetness of their joined mouths was swept away as soon as their tongues began to dance and writhe together. Twisting and sliding in the wet heat as he feasted from her, his cock began to demand its own attention and he used a hand in a hard caress against it before adjusting himself into a more comfortable position. Even then he didn’t let up in what he was doing.

  With a groan, he renewed his efforts and received a soft moan that sighed from her mouth to his as a reward.

  But soon their faces were pressed so close together and were breathing so heavily, they had to break apart or die from lack of oxygen. Ryker pulled back, taking in great gulps of air as he allowed his eyes to devour her closed
eyed expression. One that had the words ‘spellbound’, ‘mesmerized’ and ‘befuddled’ rising up in the miasma of his mind.

  Seeing it and knowing he’d caused it, he just sat and drank in her beauty as he wondered what she was thinking and feeling in aftermath of the best first kiss in the history of man.

  She did a hard, deep blink as if coming from up out of a daze and then looked around the cabin of the Escalade. “I think…,” she started, before her eyes flicked back to his and then quickly away. “I think we should probably consider going to dinner.”

  He didn’t like she’d taken herself out and away from him even though, except for her gaze, she’d remained in the same position. And especially didn’t like she’d brought up the mention of food his empty stomach recognized and reacted to with a deep, mournful growl.

  Bringing her hand again to his mouth, he gave his acceptance in another kiss but added a touch of his tongue to it in order to clarify the emotions writhing within both his heart and jeans. The flare in her eyes and the way her breath hitched, more than told him she’d received his message.

  “Then let’s get you fed,” he growled, partly due to frustration in his jeans before turning to start the car. But as he reached for the gearshift, he glanced her way again allowing his eyes to do a slow roam over her shining eyes, flushed cheeks and swollen lips. A look he so hoped to see in another setting when he’d actually done something other than talk and kiss in order to give her that same dazed, sexy expression.

  And he would.

  Dear Jesús, he would or die trying.

  *.*.*.*.*

  Having never been on a date before, I wasn’t sure what happened between us in the few minutes we were at the overlook. But I do know as first kisses went, mine was the best one ever. So much so, as Ryker pulled the car back onto the highway, I remained dazzled for more than a few moments.

  He must’ve felt it too, because he was just as quiet as I in those first few miles down the mountain. But the quiet between us wasn’t uncomfortable in the least. Maybe it was because our fingers remained intertwined, propped up on the console. There was just something about that connection, the union of our connection joined hands that made me feel secure and safe. Which was completely different than I’d thought I’d feel.

  In imagining my date with Ryker I’d never expected us to become so close so fast. In listening to the other girls after they had started dating, I knew our closeness, especially on our first date, was very unusual. But I wasn’t complainin. Not at all.

  The truth of it was, I’d been nervous about spending one-on-one time with Ryker. I wasn’t sure how the conversation would go or if he would expect our date to become physical – with me fighting him off if he decided to press the issue or become ‘Grabby-Hands Jones’ in order to score with me. But he had done none of that. In fact he had behaved as a perfect gentleman even when our conversation went awkward.

  “Are you having a good time?” He flashed a glance my way before quickly looking back to the road.

  Oh boy, was I! “Very much. Are you?”

  His face broke out into a beautiful wide smile and he squeezed my fingers in reply. I took it as he felt the same. But Ryker didn’t leave me hanging. “Yes, Phoebe. I am.”

  We drove for more than a few miles with no verbal words between us, but there was a communication going on nonetheless. One I could feel with every fiber of my being: one that spoke of acceptance, goodness and delight in just enjoying each other’s company.

  And just to let him know I meant it, I raised our entwined hands to my mouth and kissed the back of his hand just like he’d done to me.

  The look I received in return, one of heated eyes and a promising smile took me right back into the land of Ryker sex-fog.

  Chapter Six

  We’d been out on exactly five dates. Five times of having fun whether sharing a meal, going to the movies or just driving around town as we talked and laughed. But dates two through five had always found us at my place, where we found the privacy to explore the need building between us. A desire I was finding to be the epitome of frustration.

  Of the sexual kind.

  So the sixth time he asked me out, suggesting we dine at Luigi’s again, I took the bull by the horns and offered up a sincere, “Why don’t I make you dinner instead?”

  Actually, I was a pretty good cook and proud of it, learning everything I knew through Diana’s gentle instruction in my years with her. Her food was good, even Abe said so, though it was of the meat and potatoes variety.

  But there was another reason I invited Ryker to dinner at my place and it had shit-all to do with food. And had everything to do with a hunger of a different sort, one in the physical arena, the kind he ignited deep inside me during each of our after-date, make-out sessions.

  Date two’s end found us inside my apartment, but standing, with Ryker pressing his back into my door as we made out standing up. After he’d left, I just stood where he’d placed me, my eyes wide and staring as I tried to search for a coherent thought in the whirlwind of my dazzled brain.

  To say the man could kiss didn’t even come close to how good he was at igniting my body by only using his tongue to war against mine.

  Dates three and four ended much the same way, except Ryker led us to my couch, creating a level playing field height-wise but playing dirty pool since our hands were then free to roam. However, Ryker never let it get too far before he again disconnected and (yet again) set me aside with a grin of rueful regret before saying goodnight. Leaving me encased in a sex-fog and throbbing with a need I didn’t fully understand.

  However I got it on our last date, the fifth one as I fully comprehended what my body craved. Perhaps it was because we again started on my couch, but instead of sitting, Ryker eased the two of us down until we were fully reclining, his body half-on, half-off mine. That position was even better, allowing more of our bodies to touch and press against one another. And we took full advantage of it, twining together, his muscled thigh shifting between my legs as our tongues danced and dueled.

  It was at that moment, I fully realized what my body wanted. But I wasn’t sure if my head and heart were ready for what my physical self was demanding.

  “Jesús what you do to me, Phoebe,” he groaned, removing his hand from underneath my blouse where he’d used a hand to cup my breast as his thumb strummed my nipple. Looking deep into my eyes and with those same fingers which so delighted me cupping my face, he murmured, “I need to go,” just as he’d done each time before when he’d called a halt to our play.

  But he’d left and I let him go, knowing I had some thinking to do, a decision to make regarding how our relationship would progress. Either I would surrender my V-card willingly, delightedly or I could stick to my timeline, my checklist and keep him as nothing more than a good friend.

  Over the next couple of days, I thought of nothing else—performing my shift by rote, my brain constantly churning with the pros and cons, as well as the potential consequences of sleeping with Ryker. Not to mention, imagining all the things that I hoped would and could happened during that ‘sleeping’.

  It was with all that in mind, I offered him dinner at my place for our sixth date. “Why don’t I cook instead? You hit the red machine on the way over and we’ll watch a movie afterward.”

  His sharp audible inhale through the speaker of my phone more than told of his shock at my suggestion before his equally audible exhale let me know he wasn’t going to turn me down. “Sounds good. Can I bring anything else? Wine, beer or dessert?”

  And the dinner I’d prepared was good, even if I said so, myself.

  That he complimented me again and again on the food I prepared was a boon. But even though we talked about our day as we ate, about the stuff going on in his life and me reciting mine, my concentration was firmly on what was gonna ensue after.

  After we did the dishes.

  After we fired up the DVD player and watched the movie he’d picked.

  Aft
er he turned to me, somehow deciding our lips (…and our bodies) were too lonely to be apart as he stretched me out on my sofa before joining me.

  After I decided enough was, you know, like, freaking, enough.

  With one hand filled with my breast, his hips softly thrusting as he inveigled his hardness closer to where he needed to be (even through our clothes), his mouth on mine while his tongue created shivers in my deepest parts, I pulled away. “Can we take this into my bedroom?”

  “Really?” The surprise in the liquid chocolate of his voice only filled me with determination.

  Yes. It was gonna happen.

  And it was going to happen tonight.

  “I’m certain, Ryker,” I told him willing my trembling lips to grin. I took the time to turn out all but the two nightlights in my bedroom before I settled myself in the middle of my bed, ass to heels as I reached for the material at my waist in a crossed-arm grab. In a bold move (it was to me, anyway), I lifted the fabric up, shifting it over my head and threw my top to the floor. He, in turn, was toeing off his boots as he unbuckled his belt. Tagging his t-shirt between his shoulder blades, he yanked it over his head and sent it sailing into a corner.

  Not to be outdone, I unlatched my bra allowing it to slide down my arms. As the cups gave way I watched Ryker’s amazing eyes flare at the sight of my unclad breasts

  “I want you so fucking bad.” God, if I’d tried to dream up the perfect words for a guy to utter at that exact moment, ones guaranteed to ensure I’d made the right choice in the male who I wanted to take my virginity, his deeply offered growl was exactly what I needed.

  Without volition, my mouth opened to speak what my heart wanted. “Then why are you all the way over there and I’m here?”

  Ryker moved as if I had lifted his spell of immobilization, almost tackling me as his body met mine, our bodies colliding then falling back onto the bed, his arms surrounding me as our tongues met in a tangle without benefit of lips, before he gently shifted to my side.