Breaking the Habit

by Anne Berkeley

  Tate broke into a smile. “You making him foot the bill?”

  “Fuck yeah.”

  “Good thing your place doesn’t have carpets.”

  “Suppose it is.” Laughing, the two clasped hands briefly, then Tate and Coop were gone too, leaving only Marshall and Jaxon behind.

  “What do ya say we hit the café across the street?” Marshall asked Jaxon. “I was told to eat the cafeteria food at my own risk.”

  “I’m game.” He usually was. The kid could pack down some food. I think he gained ten pounds the past week. But he needed it. He was still as thin as a rail.

  “Do you guys want anything?” Marshall nodded in our direction. “I can get something to go.”

  “One of everything," I answered, “and two of all the desserts.” I was starved, and Marshall was right; the cafeteria fair was questionable.

  “I’m good,” Shane declined. “Not feeling it right now.”

  Marshall smirked. “No Bloody Mary?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “You’ve been on your back two days,” Marshall pressed. “You’re going to get soft lying there.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “You need food to fuel the body.”

  Shane nodded in my direction. “She’s getting one of everything and two of all the desserts. I’ll steal some of hers.”

  “All right. Laters, then.” Marshall waved as he walked out the door. “Come on, Slim Shady, let go pack some carbs on your skinny ass.”

  Jaxon reached in his pocket and tossed a pair of Snickers bars on the bed as he hurried out the door. At the last second, he grabbed the knob and pulled it closed behind him. The thing slammed closed, sealing out the sounds in the hall.

  “Slim Shady?” Shane arched an eyebrow.

  “Marshall’s nickname for him. He’s skinny. He wears glasses. He’s into music, you know?” Lifting the Snickers bars, I set them on the bed tray beside the white Styrofoam cup and Shane’s uneaten lunch. The kid thought the things were a main food group on the nutritional pyramid.

  “Mm,” Shane replied inattentively. Grasping my wrist, he lifted my hand and examined the gauze wrapping my palm, his expression souring. “Did I fuckin’ do this to you?”

  “No, I did it to me.”

  “What happened?”

  “I came out of the bathroom, and you were seizing. I panicked and dropped the glass.” Shane pressed a kiss to the back of my hand before releasing it.

  “Tell me everything from the beginning. The guys only told me the bits and pieces they found amusing.”

  “You don’t remember anything.” I frowned, tucking my hand back against my side. I knew he wouldn’t. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

  “Except for Carter busting my balls all night? No.”

  “You came home drunk, scared the ever living shit out of me—”

  “What did I do?”

  “I was out cold. When you woke me up…I think it was the alcohol on your breath. It just freaked me out. I thought Tommy was in the room.”

  “Jesus.” Shane tightened his arm, pulling me closer. “I’m sorry, Emelia. I fucked up. I know I did.”

  “That’s ok. I almost clocked you with the lamp.” My mouth pulled into a weak smile. I could afford to laugh about it now.

  “Did I do anything else to traumatize you?”

  “You told me you loved me.”

  “Did I?” I had to smile at the shock in his expression, which was followed by a desperately needed flush of color.

  “I said it back.”

  “Fuck.” Draping his arm over his face, he lamented over his indiscretions. “God, I fucked up.”

  “Seriously—”

  “It won’t happen again,” Shane said, cutting me off. He grasped my arm, as if I were going to flee. “I swear it won’t happen again.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Emelia,” he said, eyes pleading.

  “Relax, Shane, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You’re not dumping my sorry ass?”

  “I’m not dumping your sorry ass.”

  “I'm sorry. A million times, I'm sorry.”

  “I know.” Resting my head on the hollow of his shoulder, I closed my eyes. “I’m not mad. At least, not at you.” Carter was a different story.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to say it, but it wasn’t his fault. It’s not like he forced those pills down my throat.”

  “Please, don’t even get me started.”

  “I’m just saying I don’t think he gave it a conscious thought. He was just being Carter.”

  “And I’m just saying, I disagree. Whether brutally honest or teasing, he deliberately pushed your buttons and drove you to your breaking point. You almost died because of it.” The fervor in his stare stifled my argument. Self-consciously, I glanced away. “What? What’re you staring at?”

  “Nobody ever cared before.” I doubted that. His friends cared, but I knew what he meant. Having someone solely for yourself was different. It was bigger, yet humbling. It was unfathomable to think of what another soul might possibly see in you. “Not even my father.”

  I glanced up. Shane had his eyes closed, but his Adam’s apple bobbed. My heart fractured into a thousand tiny pieces. “It’s his loss,” I said. “If he can’t see what an amazingly talented and brave human being you are, fuck him. I’ll love you enough for the both of us.”

  Reaching up, Shane cupped my face in his hands. “Say it.”

  “I love you.”

  “Again.”

  “I love you, Shane Richardson.” Looping his arm around my waist, Shane pulled me tight against him, until the curve of my ass nestled against cradle of his hips.

  “I need you, Emelia.” My protest was transformed into a moan of pleasure when Shane dropped his head and began to graze at my neck. Goosebumps rippled across my skin, my nipples firming to stiff peaks.

  Shane pushed my hospital gown to the side, ran his hand along the cleft of my ass. I pushed back against his hand, gasped as he slipped his finger into me.

  “Those fuckin’ noises you make—they’re a benediction.” Slowly, he began curling his fingers, eliciting another moan, and another. Before long, my back arched and I jutted my rear toward him in a shameless demand for more.

  “Shane.”

  “More?”

  “Yes!” Quickly, he withdrew his fingers, and began to nudge himself into me. I grasped his wrist, bracing myself. My nails dimpled his skin. “Merda, Shane!”

  “Fuck,” Shane gritted through his teeth. Pulling back, he thrust forward, his hips clapping against my ass. I bit my lip, suppressing a cry. Threading a hand into my hair, he forced my head around, and took my mouth in a searing kiss.

  I was panting by the time our lips parted again. We’d been together for several weeks, but I was still no closer to becoming accustomed to his size or his ferocity. I prayed I never did. His raw bite of pleasure made me feel alive again, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. I no longer had to exist in that numb state of grief and fear.

  Wrapped in Shane’s arms, I came undone. Shivers, wrought of our love and affection, racked my body. Shane followed closely, his gruff baritone blending with my incoherent moans. He rode out the last of my tremors, buried deep inside me.

  “Fuck, I never knew it could be like this!” Still quaking from the shock of his orgasm, his hips bucked in small jerks. His teeth scraped along my skin and set briefly into my nape. “So fuckin’ intense!”

  My nails bit into his wrist, carving tiny crescents into his skin. Another moan escaped as a fresh set of spasms rocked through my core. Unable to take anymore, I spouted off a string of expletives that would’ve put the most proficient of criminals to shame. Shane merely laughed and tightened his embrace.

  “Never,” he refused, “I’m staying inside you forever.”

  “Shane!”

  “I love you, Emelia Cipollini.”

  Contrary to my frustration, my lips curled into
a grin. “Say it again,” I demanded, using his own words.

  “My fuckin’ pleasure.” Running the tip of his nose along the edge of my ear, his breath came out in a warm caress. “I love you.”

  Goosebumps raced across my skin. I turned my head, met his lips with mine. Our tongues tangled, chasing that fervent high of our professed love. This was how it was supposed to be. What we were sharing was an all-consuming, uncomplicated, unconditional exchange of emotion. It was heady and exhilarating. I never wanted it to end.

  Evidently, neither did Shane. Slowly, he began to buck his hips again. Gently, as if he could escape notice. Breaking the kiss, I stared up at him, biting back a laugh.

  “You can’t possibly be ready for a round two.”

  “My balls know that, but my dick doesn’t.”

  “Maybe you should let him in on the secret.”

  “He’ll get the hint soon enough, but in the meantime, why waste the opportunity.”

  “I hardly think you wa—merda!” I broke off as Shane slipped his hands between my thighs and teased me into another peak. It didn’t take much effort, merely a few strokes of my already-sensitive flesh. He knew me well.

  “The opportunity to make you come again, beautiful.” Finally withdrawing, he fixed my hospital gown, covering what he could with the drafty garment. “The least I can do to make up for my whiskey dick.”

  My face flushed with color. I rolled to face him. “You said you didn’t remember anything from the other night.”

  “It’s coming back to me in bits and pieces.” Turning his head away from me, he yawned widely, stretching out like a cat before curling up for a nap on the windowsill. “Come lie with me. Wrap yourself around me like a bow. I like when you do that.”

  “Roll onto your back.” Shane did as I asked, and I did as he asked. I rested my head on the hollow of his shoulder, draped my leg over his waist. “What else do you remember?”

  “Not sure.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I was pretty fuckin’ high. I’ve been asleep for two days. It’s hard to tell what I might’ve dreamt and what was real.”

  “Like what?”

  “You agreed to move in with me.”

  “That had already been decided.”

  “Just making sure.” Lifting his leg, he draped it over my knee, trapping my leg between his. “It’s not decorated.”

  “You want me to decorate it.”

  “You sound oddly suspicious over that.”

  “You’ve seen my place.”

  “You’re right. I’ll hire a decorator.” He was close to sleep. I knew because he didn’t back his comment with a laugh. It was typical. He could fall asleep at the drop of a dime. The overdose only exacerbated the matter.

  Grasping the blankets puddled at the foot of the bed, I yanked them up and spread them over our legs. We’d likely kick them off later. There was something to be said for combined body heat. But for now, they’d stave off the institutional chill of the hospital.

  “Emelia,” Shane murmured. He grasped my wrist as I settled the blankets over his waist. “You were right about Heaven.”

  Tears gathered at the back of my throat. “Thank you, but I wish you would’ve taken my word for it, rather than discovering it firsthand.”

  “I’m sorry for what I said.”

  “I know.”

  Shane’s grip on my wrist eased. His eyes fell still beneath his lids. I waited until his breathing evened out before I began to slide my hand away.

  “She was beautiful,” he breathed. It came out so softly, I thought I’d heard him wrong. “Your papa called her ‘bella’.”

  “Beautiful.” It was what he used to call me.

  “Like her momma.”

  Note from the Author

  I want to thank you for taking the time to read Breaking the Habit. If you enjoyed Emily and Shane’s story, please consider leaving some positive feedback on Amazon, Goodreads or any other blogs you visit.

  Feel free to visit me on my website, on Facebook, on Twitter or on Goodreads.

  Drop me a line. I love to hear from my readers.

  Sign up here for new releases.

  Thanks again for your interest in my books,

  Anne Berkeley

  Other books by Anne Berkeley

  The Wild Hunt Series:

  Tempestuous

  Torrid

  Turbulent

  Once Bitten Twice Shy Series:

  Feral

  Hautboy Series:

  Someone to Watch Over Me

  Breaking the Habit

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I want to send a big thanks to all my beta readers for invaluable feedback and encouragement!

  Anita Terrill, Kathleen Burcham, Vannessa Hasty, Lorna Atkins, Jacquelyn Soto, Trish Sutherland, Krista Aird, Donna Demanche, Katie Davis, Danielle Feffer Hackmey, Danielle Renee, & Amy McCoy Crull.

  Thank you to Lori Garside for her keen eye and amazing proofreading skills.

  And thanks to everybody who has helped make this book a reality.