Broken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Second Season

by Peak, Renna

  “Tell me what you’re wearing.”

  I closed my eyes, giving my head a little shake as another groan of frustration escaped my lips. “Brandon…”

  “Jen, please.”

  I pressed my lips together. “A black dress.” Doing this while I was angry with him felt almost… dirty.

  He groaned into the phone. “God, is it that little thing you were wearing that day in Iowa?”

  “No. It’s new.” I looked down at myself, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks. “Sleeveless. V-neck.”

  “Mmm. Where’s the hem?”

  I looked down again. “Just above my knees.” I stood up from the bar stool in front of my tiny kitchen, fanning my face with my hand. “Brandon, Mel is going to be here any second…”

  “But you’re alone now. Take it off.”

  I licked my lips. “No.” My heart raced in my chest and I looked around the room. There wasn’t anyone there and there was no way anyone could see into the apartment. It just felt wrong. I needed to be angry with him, not let my lust take over.

  He growled into my ear. “Take it off, Jen.”

  “I’m… I’m…” I couldn’t even form a coherent thought. My body flushed with heat and I just wanted to feel him touch me. “I’m so, so, so angry with you.” My words came out breathless, that damned lust betraying my fury.

  “Angry sex is the best kind. Now take the dress off.”

  I lifted a single brow and bit my bottom lip. “Angry phone sex?”

  “Have you tried it? Walk into the bedroom and take it off. Now.”

  I walked into my bedroom and pulled down the zipper, letting the dress fall to the floor. “Okay.”

  “Is it off?”

  My lips pressed together. “Yes.”

  “Good. Look in the mirror and tell me what you see.”

  I walked to the full length mirror on the wall next to the closet and observed myself. “Brandon…”

  “What are you wearing now?”

  I pressed my lips together again and turned away from the mirror. “Brandon…”

  His breath caught and he groaned. It wasn’t like the sound he made when we were together, it was more like he was in pain. “Tell me. I need to hear it.”

  My brows knitted together and I sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you okay? Brandon?”

  “I’m fine. Tell me.”

  I gulped down the dry lump that had formed in the back of my throat. “Black lace bra. Matching panties.”

  “The thong?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Good. This is good.” He let out another pained breath. “Lay down on the bed.”

  I winced at the sound he made. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine. Lay down on the bed.”

  I did as he said, resting my head on his pillow. I could still smell him there, his clean scent filling my senses. I felt myself melt a little and pressed the phone more tightly to my ear. “Okay.”

  “The things I’m going to do to you, Jen.” He almost growled into the phone.

  A gasp escaped my lips as a thrill raced through my body and centered between my legs.

  “I’m kissing your sweet mouth. Tasting you. Do you feel that?”

  My mouth formed a tiny “o” and I let out a little whimper. “Yes.”

  “You taste like raspberries, Jen.” He groaned into my ear. “Now I’m going to work on your on-buttons.”

  My words came out on a sigh. “My on-buttons?” God, I wanted him there. Touching me. My body throbbed and all I could think about was feeling his skin against mine.

  “Nine of them. Where’s the first one?”

  My voice was barely above a whisper. “I have nine?” Another thrill of electricity ran through me, just thinking about where he would touch me. I really had nine? Nine places he could touch to make me come alive. Oh, God…

  “You help me count. Where’s the first one?”

  “Oh, dear God.” I closed my eyes, imagining where he would kiss me first. Heat burned through my body; I could feel his lips grazing my skin. “Under my ear.”

  “Number one. Do you feel my tongue there, Jen?”

  “Oh…” I could. It was like his tongue was there, laving against that sensitive flesh, waking up my every nerve.

  “Your skin is so sweet. Like sunshine. I’m going to kiss you again before I move to your other ear. Do you feel that?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. His lips melted into mine, his tongue tasting my mouth. I could feel him. He might not have been there, but I could feel every inch of him, his fingers caressing me, tracing fire over my skin.

  “My lips are under your other ear now. What number is that?”

  “Two. Oh.” My words came out on a long sigh. “Don’t stop.”

  “I’ll never stop, Jen. Where is number three?”

  I shook my head. I wanted him there, wanted this to be real. “I don’t know.”

  “Your collar bone. Do you feel it?”

  I reached up and skimmed the spot he was kissing in my mind. I didn’t even realize how much I loved it when he kissed that spot. “Yes. Three.”

  He groaned again. “Jesus, Jen. You are so fucking beautiful. My hands are on your waist. Can you feel them?”

  I felt his arms around me, holding me just above my hips, kneading my flesh. “Yes, I feel them. My hands are on your back, grazing your shoulder blades. Can you feel me?” I bit my upper lip, unsure if I was allowed to play along, too.

  “God, yes. I need to kiss you again before we move to four. God, you’re sweet.”

  “I can taste you, too, Brandon. The sting of your scotch. The sweet mint from your gum that you think covers it up.” My breath caught in my throat. “I can’t get enough of you. I’m so wet for you right now.”

  “Jesus Christ, Jen.” He let out a small moan. “I’m hard as a fucking rock for you. You’re so fucking sexy. So god-damned beautiful.”

  A tiny whimper left my lips. “Four.”

  “Four. Your collar bone on the other side. Fuck it, my hands are on your breasts now. Can you feel that?”

  I let my hand slide up to my breast, tracing around the hard bud under my bra. “Yes.”

  “Open your bra.”

  My finger slid under the hook and I flicked it open, revealing my breasts. My breath caught again, and I could feel his touch on them, feel him stroking the sensitive flesh.

  “My tongue is on that sweet little nipple of yours. I have the other one between my fingers. Do you feel that?”

  “God, yes. Five and six.” I could feel my eyes rolling back in my head as my fingers worked the tender skin.

  “Where are your hands now, Jen?”

  “One’s on the phone, the other…”

  “When I’m doing this to you. Where do you have your hands?”

  “Oh.” I thought about where I wanted my hands. “In your hair. God, it’s so soft.” I let out a loud moan. “I need you, Brandon. I need you inside of me.”

  “Not yet, sweetheart. We haven’t turned on all the buttons.”

  A small whimper escaped my lips. “Oh, fuck the buttons, Brandon. I need you. I’m so ready for you.” I didn’t think I’d ever been more wet and aroused in my life. I ached to feel him inside of me. God, I needed him inside of me.

  “You love it when I suck your little nipples. How do I know you love it, Jen?”

  I moaned again, rolling the hard peak between my fingers. “I pull your hair. Please, Brandon…”

  “That’s right, sweetheart, and it hurts like hell. And it feels so fucking good. Pull my hair now.”

  I could almost feel his hair in my hands, my fingers entwining in his silky curls. I could feel the energy starting to ball up in my belly. He hadn’t even touched me. I hadn’t even touched myself and I was already on the brink. “I need you.”

  “My lips are kissing your belly now. Tasting your skin.” He groaned. “And my hands. I just skimmed them down your sides to your hips. I felt you shiver under me when I touched you.”<
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  I shuddered at his words and slid my hand down to my belly. I ached to touch myself, but knew I was too close. I knew I’d come the second I felt my fingers there.

  He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. “Keep your hands in my hair, Jen. I need to know that you love what I’m doing.”

  “Okay.” My skin was on fire. I never knew words could make me feel like this. Only words.

  “That little spot where your hip bone meets your thigh. I’m licking it. Sucking it.”

  A bolt of electricity shot through me from that spot, making my breath catch and a gasp escape my lips. “Jesus Christ. Seven.”

  “That’s right, sweetheart. Seven. And now eight.”

  “Oh, my God.” Another jolt blistered my skin from my other hip, a spot I had never even thought about before. One more spot. I thought I would break before he even got there.

  “How close are you, sweetheart?”

  I whimpered into the phone. “So close. Oh, my God, Brandon. So close.”

  “I need to hear you come for me, Jen. Slide your hand into your panties.”

  “Not before I take care of you. I need you inside of me. If I…”

  “Jen, where is number nine?”

  I was almost panting, my breath was so shallow. “Oh, God.” I slid my hand closer to my panties, but stopped just short of the top. “Brandon…”

  His voice grew distant, dropping almost to a whisper. “Jen, my tongue is on your clit. I slid your panties over and I’m…”

  My fingers found their way to my center and I shattered instantly around them. My back arched as the waves of pleasure took over my body, making me moan and call out his name. I wasn’t sure how long it was before the intense spiral of pleasure abated enough for me to realize he wasn’t really there, the waves just kept crashing over me again and again. And it was just phone sex. Amazing phone sex, but still just phone sex. And I wasn’t angry any more. “Brandon, it’s your turn. I want to taste you, I want to lick you, suck you.”

  His breath was shallow, but not in the same way mine had been. “Jen, sweetheart, that was all I needed.” His breath was fast, so shallow. Too fast. “You need to know that I love you.”

  My brows furrowed and I sat up, refastening my bra. “Brandon?”

  “I love you. I love you so much. I have to go…”

  I heard a familiar woman’s voice then, before he had the chance to hang up. “What the hell?”

  My mouth dropped open and the phone went dead. I redialed his number, only to be sent directly to his voice mail. He had turned off the phone when she got there, wherever there was, though I had a strong suspicion that he was in Los Angeles. He turned his phone off so he wouldn’t have to explain why he was there with her.

  I recognized her voice immediately. She was the woman from the gala, the woman I had caught him kissing that night. The woman he had explained away as a business associate. He was with Robin. I couldn’t believe he had done this to me with her there. Where had she been? Oh, God, had she been listening to me?

  I trapped a small sob in my throat, my bottom lip quivering. Humiliation. That had to have been the point of this game.

  * * *

  If I hadn’t been in so much fucking pain, there was no way I would have been able to last that long, talking to her like that. I would have come in my hand a second after I knew she would play along. Christ, she played along. I still couldn’t believe it, not after how I had treated her that morning. I wasn’t sure she would play that game with me, doing what I asked her to do, but damn, the risk paid off. She had no idea how fucking sexy she was. How amazingly fucking hot that was. How much I loved her.

  I looked up when Robin opened the car door, thankful I had seen her car pull up so I could hang up with Jen before she heard her annoying, screechy voice. I switched the phone off. No sense in Jen finding out who was here—who I had needed to call for help, even though Robin was the last person on earth I ever wanted to see again. Jen would only be jealous, and that was the last thing I wanted.

  I had no idea how I had ever found the woman sidling up to my car even remotely attractive. She was selfish, money and power driven, conceited. Prissy. Everything Jen wasn’t.

  “What the hell? What the fuck happened to you, Brandon?” She looked down at me and slid behind the wheel of my rental car.

  “You have any doctors in that arsenal of yours?” I held more pressure against the wound on my right side.

  Her eyes widened when she looked down at the blood oozing around my hand. “None that can fix that. You need a hospital, Brandon.”

  I shook my head, my breath was getting shallower and it was hard to get a full breath in at all. “Can’t. They would call the cops.”

  “You were stabbed, weren’t you? What the hell are you doing over here?”

  Over here. The wrong side of Los Angeles. It was a good question, just one I didn’t have a good answer for. “I need someone to sew me up.”

  She shook her head, the fear in her eyes almost palpable. “I’m taking you to the emergency room. Think about whatever story you want to tell them.” She started the car and tore out of the parking lot. “You want to tell me what the hell you’re doing here?”

  I leaned back, resting my head against the back of the passenger seat, struggling to get a breath in at all. “Not particularly.” I pressed harder against the gaping hole in my belly, causing me to let out a loud moan. “Sorry.” It was getting increasingly difficult to remain conscious, and making it hurt more seemed to help.

  “Jesus Christ, Brandon. Maybe I should call an ambulance.”

  I shook my head. “I’m fine. Just drive to wherever someone can patch me up.”

  She looked away and tried to pay attention to the road. She kept stealing glances at the bloody white shirt that was probably all that was holding my intestines inside my body. “Who was on the phone?”

  “No one. Just drive.” As if I’d share with her what I had just done. Christ, what had I just done? Used the love of my life to keep from passing out from the blood loss? I used her as a distraction. I was such an asshole.

  “I’ve missed you. You haven’t called.” She stole another glance at me and looked down again at the blood-soaked shirt again before turning her gaze back to the road. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you…”

  “Because we aren’t together anymore, Robin. Remember? It’s been over a year.”

  “You still love me. You keep coming back.” She pressed her lips together and glanced over at me. “I never stopped loving you. We’ll get you patched up and I’ll take you home. You can stay with me. I’ll take care of you.”

  I groaned and leaned further into the seat, finally closing my eyes. There was only one woman I wanted to take care of me, and it wasn’t Robin Axelrod.

  “I need to call my publicist. Someone will take a picture when we go in…”

  “Then just drop me off. You don’t need to come in with me.” I shifted in my seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. Turns out, there are no comfortable positions when someone has stuck a knife in your belly.

  “I’m coming with you. Damn it, Brandon. You called me. I’ll take care of you.”

  Another groan escaped my lips. That was what I was afraid of.

  * * *

  4

  I pulled out my favorite sweatshirt from the drawer and pulled it over my head before sinking to my knees. A wave of nausea swept over me as I crawled into the closet. I sat there, huddled against the back wall, hiding behind the clothes. I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my head in my lap. I wanted to cry, but my sobs were stuck in the back of my throat. I was so exposed, felt so naked.

  I wasn’t sure how long I was in there, trying to hide from my humiliation when Mel came in the room.

  Her heels clicked on the wood floor and she stopped in front of the full length mirror on the wall, in front of the dress that lay in a rumpled heap on the floor. “Jenna?”

  I tried to speak, but the onl
y sound that came out of my mouth was a muffled sob.

  She walked over to the closet and knelt down, pulling my hand into hers. “Oh, sweetie. I was afraid this was going to happen. Come out of there.”

  I shook my head into my knees, ashamed to even show my face. The tears started then, burning my eyes. I sobbed quietly into my lap.

  “He’ll come back, Jenna. You know he will.” She squeezed my hand. “Come out of there, okay?”

  My head shook again. How could I ever show my face again? I knew I was going to be the laughingstock of California, probably the world. I had let him play me. Again. And this time he had won, hands down. There was no coming back from this for me. No way could I ever face the outside world again.

  “Sweetie, I’ll call the governor’s office myself. Maybe Amanda knows someone…”

  I cut her off, lifting my head from my knees for a moment. “I didn’t want the job. I don’t give a fuck about working in Sacramento. I never wanted it. I don’t care if I ever work in politics again.”

  “He’ll come back. He loves you, Jenna. He’s stupid in love with you. It was just a fight. You’ll get past it…”

  I gave my head another shake. “No.” The sobs came again, harder this time, and I cried into my knees again for what seemed like forever.

  Mel plopped herself down on the floor and sat there with me, stroking my hand with her thumb.

  I cried until I was numb. That was the only way I would be able to handle this. I had to bury it, pretend it never happened. I swiped at my swollen eyes with the back of my hand and crawled out of the closet. I let go of Mel’s hand and stood up, crossing over to the dresser to pull on a pair of shorts. “Let’s go do something. Not a club.”

  “Whatever you want.” She stood up and smoothed down her dress. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  I shrugged and I shook my head. I sniffled back the rest of my humiliated tears. “Feel like a movie?”

  “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want to do.” She lifted an eyebrow. “I see the dress on the floor, Jenna. You don’t ever leave your clothes on the floor. That’s my job.”