Pieces of Broken Time

by Lorenz Font

Jennifer tugged on his shirt. “Your clothes are in the way.”

  Fueled by lust, he wasted no time discarding his shirt and tossing it on the floor and stood before her with a need he’d been suppressing for a long time.

  The strong contour of his half-naked body took Jennifer’s breath away. She pushed to a sitting position and moved to the edge of the bed. His skin glistened with sweat in the glow of the modest light he had left for them.

  Blake watched her while she traced her fingers from his jawline to his collarbone down to his chest muscles, where her hand rested. A tremor shook her body at the sight of him. Fear of scaring him away as she studied every dip and plane of his body guided her as she pounced into action before he regretted letting her in. She dragged her fingers across the expanse of his upper torso, and rested her eyes on the tattoo at the center of his broad chest.

  “What is this?” She traced one finger along the shape of the body art.

  “It’s Trent’s dog tag,” he whispered.

  “Why are you wearing his name?”

  “It is a tribute to a brave man and a friend.” His gaze was unwavering, so intense that she shuddered. When she didn’t say a word, his voice was filled with uncertainty. “Am I disgusting you?”

  Jennifer shook her head and spoke in a firm voice. “I love everything about you. This …” She traced a finger on the raised skin. “Is what makes you you. I would never ask for anything more.” She lowered her mouth to kiss each scar, feeling his breath hitching with every touch of her lips.

  He cupped her face and planted a kiss on her lips. “I want to be perfect for you.”

  “You are.” She watched him closely as she pulled his jeans down to expose his boxers. She lowered her eyes to see the rest of him. Indeed, he had been wounded physically and was still dealing with the emotional aftermath. Her heart ached for him, but he was just as beautiful as she thought he would be. “You are perfect to me.”

  “Not as perfect as you are.” Blake slid down on the bed next to her.

  Emboldened, Jennifer pulled his boxers down. She settled on top of him and let her breasts rub against his skin as she inched down his body until she was face-to-face with his full arousal. Her breath quickened as she wrapped her mouth around the tip.

  Blake gasped. “Sweet baby girl.” He inched his hips upward.

  She gently scraped her teeth against the skin of his erection. He grabbed a handful of her hair, and she took him deeper.

  “I want to be inside you when I go.”

  She pulled away but not before she gave him a hard suck, unable to stop the bold smile when she heard him hiss in pleasure. “I’m all yours. You can do whatever you want.”

  Blake reached inside his drawer to produce a condom, and she watched while he quickly sheathed himself. Blake coaxed her closer and tugged off her panties. He let out a low whistle. “What did I do to deserve this?”

  The wonder in his tone made her feel beautiful, wanted.

  In one swift shift, he twisted their bodies until he was on top and cradled between her legs. A wicked grin teased his lips while his broad chest flexed as he penetrated her.

  Jennifer’s wetness allowed a gentle glide in. As her warmth wrapped him, the sound of their moans filled the room.

  Blake thrust slowly at first, bracing his weight with his legs, while one hand teased the tight peak of her nipple. His breathing intensified with each push while she fought the urge to cry out in ecstasy.

  “Don’t hold it, I want to hear you,” he whispered, pumping harder.

  Watching his powerful jaw clench and the vein in his neck aroused Jennifer even more. Her high hit sooner than she’d hoped and a hoarse but satisfied cry tore out of her. During that moment, her world stopped spinning, and all she felt was the delicious suspension of total fulfillment.

  She sighed quietly and smiled up at the beautiful man looking down. “Your turn,” she murmured, shifting her body under his weight.

  Blake chuckled and resumed thrusting.

  Jennifer held his waist, feeling the muscles flexing with each shove. She clasped her legs around his hips and rode his wave, watching every emotion that flashed across his face.

  “God!” Blake screamed and jerked.

  A feeling of satisfaction blanketed her when she felt him tremble.

  “Dear Jesus,” he cried, and sent her into another climax again.

  Blake collapsed on top of her, his breath coming in erratic bursts. She still felt him releasing seconds after he lay with his face buried in the crook of her neck.

  When their breathing calmed, he lifted himself up, and she saw the contented smile that was no doubt showing on her face, too.

  Chapter 22

  Blake couldn’t brush the smile off his face. It had been plastered there ever since he’d woken up with Jennifer lying next to him in perfect, naked gloriousness.

  She belongs here.

  The thought kept repeating itself in his head, along with the feeling of invincibility that coursed through his veins, leaving him revitalized for the first time in a long while. He could get used to having her next to him in bed for all eternity.

  The mere idea excited him. It had a nice ring to it.

  “Damn!”

  Jennifer stirred and twisted to face him. “Hmm?” A smile was etched on her lovely face.

  “Nothing. Go back to sleep.” He basked in the unique experience of not only feeling but seeing true happiness. The lines of worry were nowhere to be found across her brow, replaced instead by a contented expression that made her glow. It was difficult to believe he was responsible for it, but he hoped this wasn’t the last time he saw it.

  Blake glanced at his naked body, and the giddy feelings that had stayed with him all through the night evaporated into thin air. He saw flaps of repaired skin traveling from his chest down to his leg. The discolorations, patches, and puckered pink gouges seemed to be more obvious than ever in the morning light.

  Stupid, idiotic!

  He yanked the bedspread off, covered himself and hurried to the bathroom, picking up his discarded clothes from the floor in the process.

  He stood under the shower, hoping the warm water would ease his anxiety.

  It can’t be.

  Jennifer needed someone whole. She deserved a man who was comfortable in his own skin—someone who knew his worth and was unperturbed by insecurities and constant attacks of jealous fits.

  He remained under the soothing spray of water until he felt a semblance of control.

  By the time he stepped out of the shower, Jennifer was sitting at the counter in all her naked glory. His gaze instinctively traveled to her perky breasts and down to her beautiful center. As much as he wanted to stake claim on her after their wondrous night together, he wouldn’t … not for selfish reasons.

  Who am I fooling?

  Jennifer looked at him with such a soft expression, her eyes so tender and her mouth …

  Pity!

  Blake felt like he was going to puke.

  Jennifer woke up with the urge to sing and cry out her happiness. What had happened the other night had been great, but last night had been different. Last night Blake had been fully aware and wholly participating.

  This is what I’ve missed.

  She reached out to where he’d slept but found nothing but empty space. She inhaled deep, letting his lingering scent saturate and tease her senses.

  At the sound of the shower, Blake’s naked body flashed in her mind, and Jennifer proceeded to the bathroom and sat on the counter, hoping to catch him off guard.

  When Blake stepped out of the cubicle, there was no mistaking the contempt he threw in her direction.

  Jennifer’s gaze dropped to the towel that covered his body. She’d thought after they had made love that most of their issues would sort themselves out. “What’s wrong, Blake?”

  She couldn’t understand how he saw himself as undesirable when all she wanted to do was go on a lovemaking marathon with this attractive and virile m
an.

  Blake barely acknowledged her. Instead, he walked out of the bathroom and into the walk-in closet.

  She followed like a lost puppy, unable to grapple with the sudden change in his mood.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m going to drive you home so you can get on with your life.”

  “What about last night?” she asked in a small voice.

  Blake buttoned his fly and strode toward her with his bare chest in broad daylight. He stood before her, his blue eye sharp, unyielding. “Last night was great, but it’s best to forget about it.” His voice held no emotion, nothing for her to cling to for reassurance that he wasn’t cutting her loose.

  Jennifer felt her heart plummet to her toes. “Just like that?”

  He nodded. “Just like that. You’ve got plans and dreams. You’re better off without me and my baggage.” His fingers closed in on her shoulder and pivoted her away from him. “Get dressed and let’s get this goodbye over and done with.”

  This is a joke. It has to be.

  Tears burned her eyes. The ache in her chest made it impossible to think straight. “You want me to forget that it happened?”

  “Oh, it happened all right. You got a glimpse of the freak. Now, spare me the drama and let’s go on with our separate lives.”

  Her mouth quivered. She thought she had broken the barrier that had divided them.

  Who is this man?

  She pulled on her clothes with as much dignity as she could muster. “Blake …”

  “Jennifer, we had sex. That’s all. If you are under any illusion that there is something more between us, then you are sorely mistaken,” he said, and left the room.

  Pride surged through her, and she straightened her back and gathered all the things she had brought with her.

  She had been under the impression that things had changed between them.

  The tears fell even with her best effort to hide them. Once she had cleared her things, she walked out of the room, ignoring Drew happily trailing her.

  She heard dishes clanging in the kitchen, but she didn’t bother to stop. He had already kicked her out of his life. There was no need to add salt to the gaping wound. Making as little noise as possible, she walked out of his house, and out of his life, just like he had ordered.

  Blake stared out the window at Jennifer’s retreating figure, fighting the urge to run after her and beg for forgiveness. He stayed glued to his spot and battled with the pain that had taken residence inside his chest. Moisture collected in his eyes. He hadn’t cried when the RPG took everything from him, including his best friend. But as he watched her go, the impulse to cry was so strong that he caved.

  What felt like a lifetime later, he collected himself and wiped the remnants of the tears from his face. He retreated to his bedroom and decided to have his way with the bottle.

  I’m a grown-ass man, and I can do what I damn well please!

  And alone, don’t forget.

  Asshole.

  He found the bottle where Jennifer had left it and twisted the cap off. Taking a quick swig of the god-awful tequila, he felt the burning as the liquid slinked into his system.

  “You want me to forget that it happened?”

  Jennifer’s question taunted him.

  She just didn’t understand he was doing her a big favor by letting her go. She was better off without him and his constant bouts of uncertainty. There was no them, nor would there ever be. His baggage was meant to be carried by him and only him.

  Blake stripped the sheets off his bed. He couldn’t endure Jennifer’s lingering scent as a reminder of their night together.

  Who am I kidding?

  Taking one swig after another, he let his withered body collapse on the bed and kept chugging on the magical numbing extract until his mind reached the desired indifferent peak.

  Several hours later, Blake awoke to the sound of hard rapping on the door and a splitting headache that doubled him over the moment he stood. He braced his hand on the wall and continued walking with his eye closed.

  He yanked the door open, almost ripping the wood from its hinges. “What the hell?”

  “We have to work on your people skills,” Sam said, brushing past him.

  “What are you doing here?” Blake slammed the door and dropped into the nearest chair, unable to keep his eye open.

  “You didn’t make our appointment today,” Sam replied in a stern voice.

  “It’s not the first and it won’t be the last. Don’t tell me that you’re doing house calls now.”

  “No, I’m not. I knew I was going to find you here in this pitiful state again.”

  Blake opened his eye and focused on Sam. “That is the reason why I don’t want anyone around. I don’t want your pity, her pity, or anyone else’s for that matter.” He felt his anger seeping out of his pores.

  Sam stood towering over him with his hands clenched in tight fists by his side. “If you opened your one fuckin’ good eye and smelled the friggin’ roses, you would find that people don’t have an ounce of pity for you. You have enough for all of us … combined.”

  “Then what the hell are you doing here?” Sam seemed determined to be his designated punching bag while he tried to deal with this shitty headache and all the crap surrounding Jennifer.

  “Jennifer called me before she left and asked that I check on you. She guessed you’d be drowning your shit on the last thing you needed to,” Sam said through clenched teeth.

  Blake hadn’t seen Sam lose his cool in the whole year he’d known him, but it looked as if hell was about to break loose.

  Suits me just fine, big boy! Bring it.

  “Jennifer and her Mother Teresa outlook rubbed off on you, my friend.”

  As expected, Sam grabbed him by the collar of his shirt with his big hands and dragged him outside.

  Drew was hot on their heels, barking, jumping, and wanting in on the action.

  “Stay, Drew,” he commanded.

  When they got outside, Sam released and pushed him away.

  He staggered and felt as if his head might explode any second.

  “C’mon, take your best shot.” Sam moved into a fighting stance.

  Without a word and not much planning, Blake swung a right hand in an attempted jab, followed by a left. He hit a whole lot of nothing.

  Sam taunted him, gesturing for him to take another stab. “You’re a lousy drunk, and an even worse friend. You’ve broken her heart.”

  “Fuck you! To hell with your charity, and I don’t want her pity. I can do without those in my life.” He landed a mean right hook on Sam’s chin and sneered.

  “You happy now?” His friend touched his jaw, looking more pissed. “You want a fight? Here I am, someone who won’t take your shit.”

  Sam bounced up and down and bobbed side to side, and Blake struggled to keep up. When Blake took another swing, Sam blocked him and landed a punch to his gut.

  Falling to his knees, Blake clutched his stomach while his wretched head continued to pound.

  “This is what you wanted, right?” Sam spoke from behind.

  “Yes …” Blake tried to get up, but the hit was pretty solid. Coupled with the alcohol that still had his head spinning, Blake knew he was beaten when he got teary-eyed and choked up with emotion. “I … think I messed up, my man.” Sam’s hand appeared in his line of vision and Blake took it.

  “Sometimes, the best lessons we learn are when we’re drowning.” His friend helped him to his feet and dragged his sorry ass into one of the lounge chairs.

  “I’m going to call things as I see them. Not going to sugarcoat it for you, brother. You’re lucky to be alive, whether you believe it or not. You’re not alone in that jungle you’ve been thrust into. But you’re the only one who will dictate where you want your life to be. You’ve been dealt a lousy hand, but I expect that bluffer in you to mock fate and say, ‘bring it.’ Let the soldier in you fight ’til death, and until that last breath is taken. The fight, I think, is very much alive.
”

  “Are you fuckin’ done?” Blake asked in a hoarse voice.

  “Yep. I’m good to go.” Sam chuckled.

  One of the things about Sam that Blake had always appreciated was that the guy didn’t hold grudges.

  Blake leaned on the chair and wiped the miserable tears away. Among the things that Sam said, one had shaken him to the core.

  “The fight is very much alive.”

  Chapter 23

  The days following Jennifer’s abrupt exit from Blake’s life and the whirlwind move into a rented loft in LA had left her winded and bereft. Thankfully, Jennifer had been left with little time to think about him. Meetings every day for weeks to discuss projects and familiarize herself with her team of seamstresses and shoppers might have been hectic, but she was finally feeling settled both at work and home.

  Jennifer had fallen into a pattern of getting up in the morning and working out at the gym, followed by showing up at work for a few hours and then continuing her work at home. Even during the weekends, she buried herself in fabrics and sketches. She had taken to phoning Mr. Smith on several occasions to water her plants and gather her mail rather than make the drive back to Lancaster. Jennifer had convinced herself it was more about getting caught up on her new job and less about getting caught by a certain nearby neighbor.

  Waking up on a Sunday morning three months after she had left, Jennifer felt sluggish and decided to stay in bed for the rest of the day. It was close to supper by the time she struggled out of bed to fix a bowl of soup.

  Jennifer sat in her little dining area, deep in thought, and stared at the twinkling lights of the high-rise buildings that surrounded her apartment. It dawned on her what the culprit of the lethargy and rollercoaster emotions could be, and she shook her head in denial. She rushed into the bathroom and lifted her shirt, examining her body in the mirror. Even without an apparent baby bump, the answer had been there all along. If it hadn’t been for her irregular schedule, she would’ve suspected even sooner.

  The night in the shower.

  A burst of fear gripped her while she stroked her still-flat stomach. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get through this,” she murmured, and patted the unnoticeable bump. She stood in the middle of the bathroom staring and let reality sink in.