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Phoebe: Book One of Broken Girls Series

Page 12

by J. A. Hornbuckle


  I stood and grabbed the hem of my dress, yanking it up until it was over my head. But I was thwarted in my intended sexy move by the damned sleeves which clung to my arms and prevented me from disentangling myself from damned dress. I growled and heard his soft chuckle before he sat up and scooted over to rescue me.

  “Here,” he whispered on a voice holding laughter. “Wait. Don’t struggle.”

  After what seemed like a while, my damned LBD released me and was sent flying to the floor. “Shit. That was hard. Why was that so hard, Ryker?”

  He’d somehow finagled our bodies until I was standing in my alluring shoe-booties with the fabulous heels in nothing more than my amazing new underwear between his spread legs, his magnificent hardness on display as he held me with a hand on the back of my thighs. “Because you’re drunk, mi cariña.”

  Oh, yeah.

  I’d forgotten about that.

  But I hadn’t disremembered the position I asked him to take previously. “Thank you for your help, but can you go back to what you were doing before my dress tried to strangle me?”

  Again he chuckled and went back to where he’d laid earlier.

  And as he moved, I reached behind me to shuck off my bra. Then I thumbed either side of my thong and slid it down my legs only realizing I hadn’t yet removed my shoes when the scant bit of fabric, so different from my everyday wear, stuck at the top portions of the suede.

  “Oh dear,” I mumbled, bent over as I tried to figure this new puzzle out. Should I take off the boots and then the panties or try to take the panties off before I unzipped the boots?

  “Need help?”

  I shook my head, my hair falling around me as I balanced myself against the mattress. If I didn’t get this right there was a chance I’d really embarrass myself and fall to the floor, so it was vitally important I get it correct on my first attempt.

  Ah-ha! I saw the leg openings of the thong and proceed to stomp my way out of the stretchy lace before I twisted to sit on the bed and unzip my shoes, only hearing the tiniest ripping sound at my hurried movements. But as soon as I was done, when I was completely and totally naked, I shot my hands in the air and yelled, “Jackpot!”

  This was accompanied by deep laughter, one which only got louder as I knee-walked my way up the bed. “What’s so funny, honey?”

  And without as much as a glimmer of remorse at laughing at me, my Ryker choked out, “You!” before he again began braying his humor to the ceiling.

  Although I didn’t find anything funny in his answer. Not in the least.

  *.*.*.*.*

  He’d never had so much fun in bed in his life! Christ, but she was a hoot when she was snookered, what with the way she couldn’t find her way out of fucking sexy as hell dress. And then the thing with her panties versus those fuck-me shoes?

  And all the while remaining the most alluring, the most captivating female he’d ever seen, hands down.

  When she’d demanded him to lie down and stay there, he had a glimmer of what she wanted to do. And with it, exposed she’d been thinking about their bed-play and how to expand on it, as much as he had done. So after he got control of his laughter and catching her wearing a pouty-face, he realigned himself yet again, with head to pillow, feet stretched out toward the bottom of the bed.

  While he waited to see if she’d make the next move.

  “Are you done?” she asked, canting one eyebrow haughtily as she came to rest next to him on the bed with her ass against her heels.

  Schooling his lips and choking back another chuckle, Ryker nodded. She looked very cute wearing nothing but a serious expression.

  Then biting an edge of her lip and planting a hand on his chest, she swung out a leg and straddled him, making his heart almost beat out of his chest. He’d thought she’d wanted to explore, maybe learn to jack him off before he used his fingers on her, but this was even better.

  Especially because she’d initiated it.

  “Where’s your wallet?” she queried softly looking to the sides of the bed, but he was already ahead of her having taken the condom out and placing it on a nightstand when she’d been working on the panty/shoe conundrum. Reaching for the small package, he handed it to her and watched as she deftly removed the circle of latex from its wrapping.

  Shifting her hips down his legs, he felt the warmth of her hands encircle him as she stroked it on. A move that made his cock flex and his blood heat.

  But she couldn’t be ready, could she?

  They hadn’t even really kissed and outside of him sucking her nipples through her sexy as fuck bra, they’d had no foreplay to speak of.

  In order to answer his own question, he tested the waters by reaching between her spread legs and running his fingers over her slit. Slick wetness hit his skin and his senses reeled at the knowledge.

  Had she gotten hot with as little as that? Or did she, like he did himself, have an imagination that went into overdrive every time they were together?

  She spread both hands over his chest, using it to balance herself as she moved her hips up to hover over his straining hard-on. She raised her eyes to his and softly murmured, “I’d like to ride this time, if that’s okay?”

  He didn’t answer, couldn’t answer with the heady idea she needed him and wanted to ride his cock instead of using the standard missionary position they’d been employing—very successfully, if he was being honest. But he’d never had a girl ride him before.

  And was something he more than wanted, especially if that girl was Phoebe.

  Rather than answer, Ryker placed a hand on either side of her waist to help guide her movements. Not that she actually needed guiding since she’d held his cock upright and speared herself with it, sinking down onto him with a long, slow moan as he filled her.

  A filling which became easier every time they came together.

  And Dios she felt so fucking good when she surrounded him, her sweet heat holding him tight.

  After a moment, Phoebe began to move, lifting herself up on her knees and then releasing to engulf his length again and again. Every so often she’d grind herself against his pubic bone before resuming the up-and-down action. And he allowed her to ride him, to set the pace until after a time, he heard her whisper, “More”.

  So he gave his girl more, lifting and dropping his hips, using his heels to drive his cock into her faster and harder, gaining him a long, low moan for his efforts. His hands shifted from her waist to her bouncing tits, cupping them before his fingers captured her nipples to gently twist and turn. And the view as well as the sensation was fucking awesome. She was backlit by the lights coming from the other rooms, her curvaceous hips undulating, her bountiful rack quivering in his palms with her head thrown back as he continued to power upward, staking his claim within the depths of her amazing body. It was a sight that left him breathless and yet groaning in heated delight as well as inciting the first wisp of his orgasm made its presence known.

  “That’s it, baby,” he growled. “Give me it. Come all over me, baby.”

  She bent over him, her hair creating a drape that wrapped them in a cocoon as her mouth sought his almost blindly. Unclenching his hands, he wrapped her in his arms, pulling her tight, tighter into his chest as his hips continually rose and fell.

  Tongues tangling in mutual gratification, he felt the first pulse of her pussy squeeze him.

  And still he powered on until her hips stopped mid-propulsion, every muscle going to stone except the ones surrounding his shaft.

  The ones that milked and aided him in finding his own version of heaven within her body.

  Chapter Twelve

  The first time I woke up, my phone said it was still before dawn. And my head and stomach said I was still drunk, although the ensuing hangover was edging closer. I tripped over my discarded shoes and dress as I made my way to the kitchen, swallowed a couple of aspirin and chugged more than a few glasses of water before sinking back into the covers not giving the first shit about my nudity.
/>   The next time I opened my eyes, it was after ten and while I was no longer drunk, my body was complaining about my antics of the night before. I had the headache from hell and every muscle in my body, from stem to stern, screamed their discontent. It was almost too much effort to turn my throbbing head from side to side, but I needed to work out all the kinks and coils in order to get up.

  As I moved my head on the pillow, twisting my neck to try and release its tension, I saw a bit of paper on the nightstand. I knew I hadn’t left it there. ‘Great night, mi cariña. Next time I get to pick the position. Text me when you’re awake.’ There was a hand-drawn emoticon of a smiley face with lopsided hearts for eyes next to a cursive ‘R’ in the lower right corner of the paper.

  While it wasn’t a love note by any stretch of anyone’s imagination, it still meant the world to me.

  I thought about the night before, but the memories were distant and hazy. I remember drinking a lot and dancing a lot as well. Ryker brought me home and…was there some fight I had with my dress? Or was it with my shoes? Shit, I couldn’t remember.

  Another memory surfaced.

  One of me ordering, goddamn ordering Ryker to strip and stretch on my bed! I covered my face with my hands, embarrassed down to my toes. God, what must he think of me? Although in his note he’d called it a ‘great night’, so I must not have made too big a fool of myself.

  I picked up my phone preparing to text him when Diana called. “How’re you feeling today, my lovely? I’ve been phoning the others to make sure everyone’s okay, only to find the party carried on for hours after Carmen and I left.”

  I couldn’t help my smile at Diane’s words since her calling around meant she’d phoned all the other girls to assure herself nothing bad had happened after she’d left. Leaving me to think (and not for the first time), once a housemother, always a housemother even if her ‘girls’ were all grown and gone.

  We chatted for a few minutes before she told me a box had arrived. Since she was home all day, the girls and I still used her house as the ship-to address for any packages requiring a signature. Even though I didn’t remember ordering anything recently.

  “Is it okay if I come get it later?”

  “Sure. If you come around noon, we can have lunch. Abe is taking the boys to the new skate park and won’t be back until late afternoon at earliest.”

  The thought of food made my stomach do a somersault. “Erm…I’m thinking to avoid eating for a while.”

  She chortled softly. “That bad, huh?”

  “I think I’ll live, but that’s about as much as I can tell you at this point.”

  “Drink lots of water and use a cold compress for the headache, sweet girl.” Her voice held the edge of laughter. Although I didn’t find my condition funny.

  Not in the least.

  *.*.*.*.*

  Ryker heard some commotion in the large blank space outside his office. But that had been the case over the last few days due to the construction of the cubicles Max ordered. Although why Ryker would need an admin assistant was still anyone’s guess. For the stuff that he did, he and DB were the perfect team.

  So he was surprised when Max burst through his door and used his hand on the jamb to stop his forward movement. “Ma just called. We’ve got to go to New Mexico. Tio Umberto is in the hospital and not expected to survive the weekend.”

  Ryker knew what that meant. That he, his brothers and his mom would be making a road trip in order to have their few last moments with their mother’s oldest brother and would remain in New Mexico until after his funeral. There was a certain carefully orchestrated dance in Latino families especially when it came to death. And Ryker knew without a doubt that every move, every sway and dip in that dance to celebrate tio Umberto’s life would be completed. As was expected, required and done without complaint.

  “Emergency meeting for plans on exactly how to complete our work from a remote location is gonna go down in my office in five minutes. Be there, Ryker. Along with the list of what you’ve got going for the next two weeks.”

  Fuck!

  Going to New Mexico took his carefully laid plans of spending as much time with Phoebe as possible and threw it out the window. How was he ever going to cement their relationship unless he spent time with her? But the lessons of his youth over came any resistance he had, and beat hard within him.

  As a Latino, he knew la familia always came first.

  Always.

  So when tu familia has a need, you responded without delay.

  Therefore Ryker knew he was going to New Mexico, no questions asked, only hoping his mom would pack at least one pair of jeans to see him through their trip. As he mentally picked over the files of the waiting contracts, he took out his phone in order to send Phoebe a text. She needed to know he’d be out of town for a while, an indiscriminate length of time, but that he would try and contact her when he could.

  At that particular moment though, Cruz skidded to a stop three feet inside the doorway of his office. “Dude, we need you in Max’s office immediately!”

  “Shit, bro’. I’ll be there, just give me a second to get shit together, all right?” Fuck, working for his brothers was the pain in the ass he had only imagined before coming to BI. Every day was a struggle to remain out from underneath their thumbs, to obtain and carve out his individual and unique place in the business. Although his talk with the two of them on Sunday had gone a long way in establishing boundaries between them. It was true he was the youngest of them all, but he was no longer willing to take any of their crap. And it was about time they recognized it.

  “Grab what you need and haul ass, fuck-head.” Ryker rolled his eyes at Cruz’s words, knowing his back wouldn’t give away his feelings as he stuffed the file folders into his messenger bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he followed Cruz from his office and into Max’s world, only to find Daisybelle already seated and waiting, pen poised over the spiraled steno pad she always carried.

  “Glad you’re here, Ryker. Now let’s get to it,” Max intoned, his eyes darting to DB as he began to issue instructions. While Max reeled off directions left right and center, Ryker realized as far as their clients knew, business at Black Ice continued on as usual. Daisybelle would be their point of contact as she coordinated all that was needed, and did the billable hours so as to not miss deadlines nor allow their clients to know the brothers were out of state and taking personal time off in order to meet family obligations. Rio was to be in charge of all the different crews installing the systems as well as personal security.

  Ryker was impressed at how Max knew and covered every angle of basically moving the BI business temporarily to New Mexico. And did it with a minimum of fuss and absolutely no muss.

  “Cruz, go pack your shit and meet at Ma’s house as soon as you can. The three of you will ride together.” Max was in his ‘conquering warrior’ mode, which spelled trouble for anyone who dared to interrupt. “As soon as Cruz arrives, you hit the road. I’m meeting with Rio to show him the ropes, so I’ll only be a couple of hours behind you. Any questions?”

  “Should I order flowers to be sent?” DB didn’t even look up from her squiggles as she asked the question.

  “Dios! I forgot that part!” Max ran a hand over his face. “Please, DB, and thanks for remembering.”

  Ryker made a mental note of everything going on, never having experienced what happened behind the scenes during a family crisis. And now that he had a ringside seat, he didn’t want to fuck things up when it was his turn to step up to the plate.

  There was still so much to learn about life on the other side of the bars.

  Chapter Thirteen

  On the whole, my life was going great. I had a job I loved and was respected by my patients, co-workers and most of the doctors on staff. I had my own apartment which, with a few new-to-me pieces I’d picked up, was coming together nicely. And I had an awesome sex-god of a boyfriend who was as into me as I was him.

  The only hitch in my ot
herwise idyllic life was the issues Ryker and I had between us.

  The first of which was my aversion to the dark, something he’d commented on many times and had questioned me on even more as our dates and sleepovers progressed.

  But Ryker had his own secrets, too. Ones which I thought started when he’d been in the latter years of high school. Years he didn’t talk about and side-stepped each time I tried to bring them up, leaving me confused and more than a bit hurt at the lack of trust between us.

  I couldn’t tell him my secrets and, it seemed, he couldn’t tell me his, despite whatever was growing between us. And I refused to think our relationship was nothing more than a physical thing.

  But I’d spent a lot of head-time on trying to come up with a way to work though our problem. So much so, I was beginning to drive myself crazy.

  Which, in Diane’s terms—either as a six year old, a thirteen year old or even later, after I’d left her house because I’d aged out of the system—meant I needed to off-load in order to get a different perspective. As well as getting any and all of my worries off my chest. I couldn’t go to her and the girls, though, not about Ryker. Not with the way they all viewed me: level-headed, driven with a determination to succeed, no boys allowed until I’d met all my career goals.

  For me, that meant there was only one person I could confide in.

  So I took the opportunity of making sure our lunchtime relief happened simultaneously, calling in a favor of Blanche Matins and Tory James in order to ensure Rhonda and I were relieved of duties at the same time.

  Settled at the table down in the bowels of the hospital where the cafeteria was located, both of us unloading our trays after I’d footed the bill, Rhonda, being Rhonda, decided to offer the opening salvo. “You worked this, paid for it, so get it off your chest. Is it that Dr. Humphreys? Ever’body knows he wants to nail your ass so bad he practically drools when you show your pretty face.”

  “No,” I muttered, tucking my chin into my chest as I shifted my food onto the table. She was right. In any other circumstances, I would’ve sought her council on how best to dampen the efforts of the latest resident in the ER’s rotation. Not that Dr. Humphreys was bad, although he was a good three inches shorter than me, losing his hair and was more than a little pudgy. Not to mention, he had an attitude of what he felt he was entitled to with regards to respect, which completely clashed with my own when it came to patients.

 

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