Beautifully Unbroken

by D. M. Brittle

  I couldn’t believe that he was still asking me to move in after the way I had just reacted to him and Christina. All of the jealousy and hurt slowly began to melt away.

  “As soon as you’re ready, I want you here, Jo, forever.”

  I lifted up onto my toes and took his mouth in mine. It wasn’t frantic, or needy. Just love.

  I pulled back slightly and lifted my T-shirt over my head before discarding it to the floor. Blake’s eyes grew hungry as he watched me unclip my bra and let it fall carelessly to the ground. I slid my hands beneath the waistband of my trousers and let them drop to the floor before stepping out of them, his eyes on my body the whole time.

  I stood in front of him wearing only my tiny knickers. Taking his mouth in mine again, I walked him backwards until he was against the back of the sofa. My hands worked on opening the buttons of his shirt, revealing his hard abs, which were moving frantically with his ragged breath. Moving to his trousers, I carefully unbuckled his belt before tugging them down to the floor.

  I knelt in front of him and took his hard cock in my mouth. Looking up at him, I could see raw emotion in his eyes. There were no words; just pure, hard, raw emotion between us. Without taking my eyes from his, I guided his cock deeper into my mouth, my tongue worshipping every single inch of his hardness. He gasped as he threw his head back in pure delight. “Aah, Jo … fuck yes … aah.”

  I took him deep over and over, sucking with every bit of strength that my body would allow, taking him so far in I would gag. But it felt good giving him exactly what I needed him to have.

  His hips moved with me gently, pushing into me with each deep suck. His hands tangled into my hair, tugging for more, taking everything he could get from me. “Ah, Jo … so good … so fucking good …” he moaned over and over.

  I could feel his closeness. He began to move more frantically against me, his breath speeding up with each thrust. “I’m gonna come … I don’t want to come in your mouth, Jo … let me inside you … aahhhh.”

  But I wanted to taste him, taste the juices of the man whom I loved more than my own life. His hands tugged hard on my head, and with one more deep, hard thrust, he stilled inside me, his warm salty liquid filling my mouth over and over again. “Fuck yes … aah, Jo … fuck, Jo … aahhhhhhhh …” Blake shouted out in pure pleasure as his juices ran smoothly down my throat.

  I released him from my mouth and licked the head of his cock, removing the last bits of his juices that sat there before he pulled me up to my feet. He immediately took my mouth in his. “Let me taste it,” he said against my mouth. “Let me taste what you did to me.” He growled before taking my mouth harder and erratically. “Fuck, Jo, that was fucking hot.” He lifted me and stepped around the settee, laying me down on my back before releasing my mouth and roughly tugging my knickers down and throwing them to the floor. His mouth was on my in an instant, sucking and licking at my folds hungrily. “Now I want you to come for me, all over my mouth, Jo. Let me taste you; give it to me.” He growled before once again burying his face against me, taking everything he could get until my body exploded against him, sending me flying high above the earth with pure pleasure.

  “Blake!” I screamed as my orgasm took hold of me and not only gave me the most satisfying pleasure possible but also took all of my negative thoughts and jealously that I had allowed to seep back in, and trampled all over them until they were gone. At least for now.

  13

  I woke alone in bed. I remembered Blake and me falling asleep on the couch; he must have carried me through to the bedroom while I lay totally exhausted from the amount of sex we had gone on to have after our first argument since getting back together.

  I felt like a fool. I had worked myself up into the most ridiculous state over what Blake had done fifteen years ago. Not only that but I had also allowed myself to feel jealous of someone else when I was the one who had Blake – not Christina, not Sara. No other woman had Blake except for me.

  I had even convinced myself that he was with another woman rather than working. That was how ridiculously jealous I had become.

  I had showed Blake a side to me last night that I never wanted to escape from my head again. It wasn’t completely my fault that I had issues controlling my jealously, and Blake was nothing like any man I had ever been with before. He really did love me, and he showed it every opportunity he got, but getting hurt as badly as I did was always going to have consequences that would arise at every opportunity.

  I expected to be alone in the apartment, but Blake’s sweet singing voice echoed through the rooms; he sounded happy, which made me smile. His voice sounded like velvet chocolate being poured over a fountain; smooth and silky and tempting.

  Digging into my case that still hadn’t made its way back to my apartment, I took my short denim skirt and a waistcoat, quickly got changed, and headed out to find Blake.

  The singing had stopped by the time I found Blake; he was sitting on the terrace, reading from a newspaper.

  His eyes left the page and scanned to me when he spotted me walking towards him. He folded the paper, placed it on the coffee table in front of him, and patted the seat next to him for me to join him.

  I stopped in the doorway as I fiddled with my hands, feeling embarrassed.

  He smiled. “Good afternoon, sleepyhead.”

  “Hi,” I said shyly.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting up on his seat.

  “I feel terrible,” I sighed as I scratched my brow nervously.

  “As in ill?” he asked, concerned.

  “No.” I breathed out and walked over to him. I placed my legs over his and straddled his thighs, placing my hands around his neck. “I feel terrible about last night – well, this morning. You shouldn’t have come home to that. I just—”

  Blake silenced me by placing his fingers to my lips. “I can see why you were upset. It’s done now. Let’s draw a line under it and forget it even happened. I do, however, want to know how you got here last night,” he said raising his eyebrow in suspicion.

  “In a cab,” I replied quietly as my eyes focused on the material of Blake’s T-shirt, which I was fiddling with.

  “Jo,” Blake said sternly, “what time was it exactly?”

  I shrugged and continued fiddling with Blake’s shirt.

  “We’re getting you a car today.”

  “Blake, just forget that for now. Please, I need to tell you something.”

  He moved his hands from my thighs and wrapped his arms around my waist. “What is it?”

  “There’s something I never told you, and because I acted like such an idiot last night, I need to tell you now.”

  “Go on,” he said nervously.

  “The Sunday night when we were all at Alex’s birthday meal …”

  He nodded.

  “I kissed Cooper,” I said quickly.

  Blake eyed me carefully before a smile broke out across his face. “Oh did you now?” he said teasingly as his fingers moved down to my thighs and along the hem of my shirt, which was now resting at the top of my thighs.

  “It was stupid. I was upset, and I regret it,” I admitted.

  “And what did Cooper say when he had a taste of those lips that belong to me?” he asked as one hand moved underneath my skirt and started stroking my knickers.

  My breath hitched as I struggled to concentrate. Blake’s gentle strokes were so light, but the effect it was having made me want to rip his clothes off right there on the terrace and fuck him into oblivion.

  “His words were,” I said shakily, “‘That kiss wasn’t for me … it was for Blake, wasn’t it?’”

  Blake moved my knickers to the side and pushed two long, hard fingers inside me, causing me to gasp.

  “Was he right?”

  “You know he was,” I managed to say softly.

  “Poor bastard,” Blake said quietly as he thrust his fingers over and over again inside me.

  “Blake,” I panted as I threw my head back in p
leasure, “someone might see.”

  “We’re on top of the world here, baby,” Blake said as he tugged my head roughly to him and took my mouth. “This mouth is mine,” he said roughly. “And this”, he said, thrusting his fingers even deeper into me, “is mine too and always will be.”

  “Always,” I panted. “Always yours, Blake.”

  His fingers left me, and before I could register what was going on, Blake had pushed his jogging pants down to the floor. With me still on top, he thrust into me deep and hard, causing me to moan out loudly.

  “That’s it, baby, show me. Show me what you can do to me.”

  I began to ride his cock hard and fast, both of us picking up a steady rhythm as we ground against each other. “I’m gonna come soon, Jo; I can’t stop. I can’t control myself when I’m inside of you.”

  In the next thrust, my whole world turned on its axis. My body shuddered as my orgasm hit every muscle and every sense, sending me flying.

  Blake’s head fell back as he thrust into me one more time before stilling and emptying his warm liquid into me, shouting my name over and over again until he was done. I fell forward and rested on Blake’s chest as we both lay panting hard, slowly coming back to earth.

  “If you moved in with me, we could do that all the time.”

  “When I move in with you, we will.” I smiled, looking up at him.

  “God, I love you.” He smiled as he pulled out of me and shifted me from his lap.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to get ready for the special night we have planned,” he said with excitement. “Shower?” he asked, holding his hand out for me.

  Standing, I adjusted my shirt and took his hand in mine. “Where exactly are we going?” I asked.

  “Tonight I am taking you to my favourite French restaurant, and then you are escorting me to a Yankees game.”

  “Won’t Alex be offended you took your girlfriend to the game instead of him? This is a Blake–Alex thing,” I stated.

  “Alex is only just landing; he’s gonna want the night with Casey,” he said. “Which reminds me, it may be best for you to stay here again tonight, just in case you disturb them.”

  “Sly,” I replied, “but can’t we just stay here, have a night in front of the TV, eat trashy food, and fall asleep together?”

  “No. I want to take you out and give you a real Yankees experience, then bring you back here and give you another great experience.” He smiled, but he frowned when he noticed I didn’t share his enthusiasm. “Come on, it’ll be fun; you will love it. Great food followed by a great sport with great atmosphere, and your favourite man on your arm.” He smiled his million-dollar winning smile. “It will also give me a chance to show you what a real sport is too,” he teased.

  “Okay,” I said in surrender. “But I’m still not moving in.”

  As we entered the bathroom, we were already helping each other to undress.

  I was unsure what the required dress code was for a nice meal at an exclusive French restaurant followed by an evening watching men hit a ball as far as they could before running around in a circle. So, assuming that we would be in one of the stadium’s VIP boxes, I went for smart and casual by pairing up my favourite cream blouse and my favourite black trousers, along with my favourite Jimmy Choo shoes, which Blake also seemed to like.

  I was happy with my choice when I walked into the lounge to see Blake wearing a black Ralph Lauren suit with a white shirt underneath that was open at the collar.

  “Will this do?” I asked, holding my hands out and turning in a circle for Blake to see.

  He smiled. “Perfect.”

  As we pulled up to the restaurant, Blake handed the keys to the valet for parking. We walked into the restaurant unnoticed, which pleased me. This was our first public appearance together since the airport last weekend, and I hoped that by now we were beginning to fade into the background. Surely now it was someone else’s turn to make the headlines.

  The waiter showed us to a secluded booth as Blake had requested. He then ordered us a bottle of champagne before the waiter retreated, leaving us to decide on what we wanted to eat.

  “So,” Blake said, “what do you normally eat when you go French?”

  “Well, I’ve only ever eaten French once,” I admitted, “so that would be whatever you brought over to my apartment that one time.” I tried to work out what was what on the menu. I couldn’t read or speak French; I had given up trying to learn as a child and had turned to Spanish instead; it seemed like the easier choice at the time.

  “Ah, I recognize that one – le coq au vin,” I said in my best French accent. “Mum used to make that, but I didn’t like it.” Blake had stopped looking at the menu and was watching me with a huge smile on his face. “And don’t go ordering me la cagouille or escargot.” I screwed my nose up. “I know they are both something to do with snails,” I said in disgust.

  He smirked. “Shall we try some des cuisses de grenouille? Or maybe some le tete followed by le pied de paquets?”

  “Judging by your face, I know that you just said something totally revolting. So no. But can you speak French to me again, please” – I leaned forward so only Blake could hear me – “because that was ridiculously hot,” I said seductively.

  Blake let out a low moan just as the waiter returned with our champagne. “Talk about timing, right?” he laughed, gesturing to the waiter.

  Blake ordered us both something in French, and even though I had no idea what it was – and I wasn’t going to ask – it was definitely what we had eaten the night he had brought French food to the apartment. And it tasted delicious.

  After my second glass of champagne, I decided I’d had enough alcohol when my head started to feel a bit fuzzy. I still had a Yankees game to get through, so I wanted to keep a clear head.

  When we had finished our meal, Blake paid the bill and we headed outside the restaurant while the valet collected the car.

  Blake pulled me into his arms and kissed me softly. “Are you ready for what happens next?” he asked, grinning.

  “I assume you are referring to the Yankees and not that you are about to have your wicked way with me in the middle of a busy street,” I joked.

  Blake nodded, seeming to consider the latter option, causing me to slap him lightly on the chest, at which we both laughed.

  “Blake! Jo! Over here!” a voice shouted from across the street. We both turned to see a photographer snapping pictures of us.

  “Take no notice of him,” Blake said, capturing my attention. “He’s not doing anything wrong; he’s only doing his job. We are happy and smiling, and the pictures will show that and only that.” He held my gaze. I forced my lips into a smile.

  “That’s better,” he said before kissing me again. I was grateful to see the valet pull up next to us. I got in the car almost before he had got the chance to get out.

  “Go Yankees!” Blake said playfully as he hopped into the car and pulled away from the restaurant.

  “So what’s the atmosphere like up in the luxury suites?”

  Blake was smirking but kept his eyes on the road. “I’m taking you for a real Yankees experience, Jo; that doesn’t involve anything luxury.”

  “Where are we sitting, Blake?” I asked firmly.

  “Well, like I said, I want to give you the real Yankees experience.” He turned to me briefly before turning back to the road. “There’s no real atmosphere in those boxes. I wanted you to really feel it, you know.” He shrugged slightly.

  “Blake,” I growled, “look at how we’re dressed. We can’t stand down there dressed like this; we will stick out like a sore thumb!”

  “I’ve already prepared for that,” he said.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  “The bag?” he said. “On the back seat?”

  I twisted to see a large brown paper bag with the word “Yankees” scrawled across the front.

  “What’s in the bag, Blake?” I asked t
hrough gritted teeth.

  “Take a look.” I could see he was struggling to hide his amusement.

  Throwing him one last disgusted look, I grabbed the bag and started to remove the contents.

  “You want me to wear a Yankees cap?” I asked in shock as Blake pressed his lips together to stem the laughter that I could tell was bubbling up. “And a jacket? I’m going to look like an idiot!”

  “You’re gonna look like every other woman in the stadium,” he laughed. “No one will know it’s us.”

  “Oh and your shoes?”

  “What about my shoes?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Under my jacket and hat in the bag.”

  I put my hands in once more and pulled out a pair of white Converse trainers. “Oh no.” I shook my head. “No way can I wear these; I don’t do flat shoes.”

  “Just put them on; we’re almost there,” he laughed.

  We pulled up to the stadium and parked the car. “Well, do I look like a New Yorker?” I said, batting my eyelids at him as I adjusted my cap.

  “Every single inch.” He smiled before placing his sunglasses and cap on and grabbing his jacket. “Go Yankees!” he shouted again as he stepped out of the car.

  Maybe this was going to be a fun night after all.

  Blake kept a firm grip on me the whole time until we were seated. He formed a protective stance around me, not allowing anyone to step close enough to push into me or cause me to stumble. The stadium was packed full, and the atmosphere was amazing – nothing like I had ever experienced at a football match; it was easily multiplied by one hundred.

  Once seated, Blake called over a vendor and purchased two Diet Cokes and pretzels.

  “How are you even hungry?” I asked, surprised by him when he started wolfing it down immediately.

  He shrugged and smiled. “I’m not. It’s all part of the experience.”