What Breaks a Man?: Sensible Hearts Part 2

by H. Q. Frost

  "Baby," I groan in her ear and finally let my tongue slide over the flesh of her neck while she collects herself. "That was hot as fuck, La."

  She giggles. "I need to get cleaned up." Lifting her hands covered in tomato and pepper juices, she slides away from me and heads for the bathroom.

  After washing my hands, I look down, trying to figure out how the fuck she came and then I see the bottle opener mounted to the cupboard exactly where I had her pinned. A chuckle escapes while I rub my chin and try to distract my dick because this dinner will never get made while I'm rock hard and so close to bursting. I move what we chopped to the pan and start opening the cans of tomato paste and sauce then pause before I go through her cupboards. Whatever her recipe was, I'm altering it because I know how much she hates tomato sauce. As I get into preparing our meal, my dick forgets about being left out and softens to half-mast. I can work with this, and not until I pour a cup of vodka into the pan do I start to wonder if Nyla climbed out the bathroom window and bailed on our date. She's been gone at least fifteen minutes. Stirring the milk in, I glance over my shoulder toward the hallway and see she's standing next to the refrigerator.

  "Shit," I blurt because I wasn't expecting her to be standing there, and I sure as hell wasn't expecting her to be standing there in only underwear that match the color of that dress she had on.

  "You were on a roll, I didn't want to interrupt." She smirks and walks toward the stove.

  "How long you been there? I didn't hear you." I look down to her bare feet, clamping my lip between my teeth to hold back my groan.

  "A little while," she says and starts stirring the pan. "What've you done to our spaghetti?"

  "You hate spaghetti," I whisper and I trace my tongue around the shell of her ear.

  With one hand I hold her hair out of the way, and with my other I press it against her stomach to pull her against me and her bare flesh away from the stove.

  "So what's the alternative?" she asks tilting her head so I can suck on her neck.

  So much for staying at half-mast. If my dick gets let down this time, it might not make it past dinner.

  "It's a slightly altered version of vodka penne. The only thing I know how to cook." I slide my hand under her chin and tilt her head back so I can get to her throat and suck.

  "Don't leave marks, Dom," she moans.

  "Mm-hmm," I mumble my lie while I move my mouth to suck a different spot. "I want to fucking eat you," I growl. "But this has to be stirred for ten minutes straight."

  She chuckles and pulls away from me, making me groan.

  "You stir, I'll suck." With her words she drops to her knees and my eyes burst wide hearing the unexpected idea.

  I open my mouth to tell her not to worry about it but she's already got my pants unzipped, and who am I kidding, I'm not going to pass this up. I just need to maintain enough focus to keep my hand moving in a stirring motion. The task is a lot harder than I thought it would be, and only gets harder each time she takes me to her throat. I want to tell her to take it nice and slow, but I'm ready and the next time I hit the back of her throat again, I'm gonna lose it.

  "I'm so close, La," I groan and shoot my eyes to the pan I'm maintaining my stirring movement.

  Her hum vibrates over my dick as she slides me as far back as she can get me, and that's it. Fuck dinner. I grip her hair and pull out of her mouth, holding her still while I shoot my load down her chin and neck, spraying her tits in my come. Thinking I took it too far, this isn't a fucking porno, I try to take a step back as I pant through the intensity of that orgasm. Her nails dig into my ass as she pulls me back toward her, sucking on the very swollen, sensitive tip of my cock.

  "Fuck, fuck." I jerk and twitch until she lets me go and gets to her feet.

  With a glance toward the stove, she turns it off but I don't take my eyes from the mess I created down her chin and chest. God, I'd love a picture of that. I get no picture but she wraps her arms around me and her mouth lands on mine. I pause when come touches my lip, but her tongue slides into my mouth and I think about this. No amount of come in my mouth is going to make me pass up the chance to kiss Nyla like I'm her oxygen mask.

  She pulls away with a giggle and wipes her chin with her finger. "I'm going to get cleaned up. Again." As she prances her sexy ass out of the kitchen, I dart to the sink and start spitting, on the brink of gagging as I overthink what I just ate.

  Shit. I hold the faucet as I dry heave. Women swallow all the time. It was my come. What's the big deal? I dry heave again then stick my mouth under the running water and start to gargle. After drinking eight gallons of water, I walk back over to the stove and finish the sauce.

  "I didn't intend on things happening like that," she says, walking back into the kitchen and I smile over at her, noticing she's in a t-shirt and shorts now. This look is just as sexy. "Every time you're around I want to make up for lost time."

  "I can't really say sorry." I shrug and she snaps my ass with a hand towel, making me jump.

  "I'm starving now," she says leaning against my side and looking into the pan.

  "Almost done." Bending down, I softly trace kisses over her nose.

  She pulls away and walks across the kitchen where she starts to cut up bread.

  "La," I call her name and she glances back at me. "Everything cool?"

  I took the blow job as assurance we can work on us, but now she's suddenly putting that stressful wedge between us again.

  "Yeah." She nods and turns back to the bread.

  Lie.

  "Nyla." I walk over to her and lock her in place so she can't walk away, then spin her to face me. "What's wrong?" I slide my hand into her hair and lean down, tracing my tongue around her lips.

  I ate come for the woman, she's not pulling away now!

  "At this rate, we're never going to eat," she says as her arms go around my neck.

  "I'm going to eat." I slide my hand between her thighs and she laughs, pushing me away. "Finish the sauce."

  She's hard to read. She didn't try to get away that time, but she definitely was trying to pull away before. She's messing with my head and heart and I just need some clarification.

  She looks over her shoulder at me as I stand at the stove and I wink, making her smile and look back.

  Sitting next to her at the table, I wait until she takes the first bite. I'm confident it tastes good, but I want to know what she thinks. Her moan of approval is my go ahead and I can't wait because I haven't eaten an actual meal since my mom's a few nights ago.

  "I liked that dress, and what was under the dress, but this is just as sexy, ya know?" I glance over at her.

  "Is that a compliment at my attempt to look nice for you tonight? Or is it an invitation to bum around whenever you come over?" She smirks at me.

  "Both."

  "Well, I went shopping on my lunch break for that dress and underwear, and I've had this shirt since high school, and I couldn't tell you where the shorts came from. But, let it be known, I put in an effort for you."

  I wipe my mouth and lean over to nibble on her earlobe. "I appreciate the unexpected effort but I prefer when you're comfortable."

  "I'm comfortable." She smiles and meets my lips. "How are you feeling?"

  I cock my eyebrow.

  "After what happened. I know you've been… depressed." Her eyes go back to her plate.

  "Uh, it sucks." I shrug. "No matter how many times people tell me I was trying to help, I know Zander wouldn't be where he is right now if it weren't for me getting involved."

  "You found out which little boy it was?" she softly asks.

  "Zander." I nod. "He's the younger of the two. He's not even two."

  Now her eyebrow cocks. "How'd she get pregnant if he was in jail?"

  "He got out and came right back." I chuckle and shake my head. "I used to think the guy was just bad with luck. I was so fucking stupid."

  "How were you stupid? You're a great guy, Dom. Why would you assume someone you thought was
a friend is playing you?"

  "There were probably signs. I don't know, La. I don't want to think about this shit right now. I've got things I want to ask you."

  I don't have the answers I want and I feel like we're going to take another step back somehow by the morning.

  She sets her fork down and gives me all her attention.

  I wipe my mouth and dive into the questions. "How'd you get involved with drug smuggling?"

  She coughs and covers her mouth with her napkin as she stares at me wide-eyed.

  "You okay." I reach for her and she pulls back, nodding.

  Clearing her throat, she wipes her mouth a few times. "It's not drug smuggling, Dom." She sighs and looks at me again. "Jesus, you have no idea what you're delivering, do you? You don't even know and you just do it? You've come up with plenty of your own bad ideas, but haven't you realized you only seem to get in trouble when you go along with someone else's? Why are you still doing this job?"

  "I took the less-I-know approach, La. I didn't want to know what I was delivering until I found out you were involved. Not just involved, but in charge. I do the job because I don't have the option to turn it down and make a decent living to support myself." When she doesn't say anything I ask, "So what are we dealing with here, Nyla?"

  Her eyes drop from mine. "They're prescription drugs and they go to people who can't afford insurance or to go to the doctor. I steal from prescription drug companies and give to the poor and uninsured people struggling to stay alive. My dad got really sick, wasn't insured, refused to pay for a doctor visit because he was struggling. I found out and started paying for his visits but he started lying to me about the drugs he needed because they were astronomical prices. He had a heart attack a year ago." She wipes her eyes as tears start and I stand, kneeling next to her. Clearing her throat she says, "I started slipping the drugs he needed into his food. Stubborn old man. But the only way I could get it was by stealing it. My mom's husband works for a pharmaceutical company and before I started working at the community center, he had gotten me a job so I had access. Brad, my ex." She looks at me and I look away. "He knew someone that worked in a shelter and started offering money. I did it for free. I refused to take the money. We started small. Stealing from a local pharmacy and then it started to grow."

  This is not what I was expecting.

  "I never planned on making money from this. It was all non profit. My job at the community center paid for everything when the jobs were small, but Brad made it bigger, saying we needed it bigger to keep MFW running."

  "Those are your dad's initials."

  Softly rubbing her thumb over my jaw she tells me, "I missed you, Dom," and I kiss her fingertips before she pulls away. "Meds for wellness is what it stands for, but yes, I used my dad's initials." She pushes her plate to the side. "I'm full. And that was the best meal I've had in awhile. Takeout's been my main source of nutrients lately." A pathetic chuckle trickles from her lips. "I've been so busy, not much time to cook. Would you like more?" she asks when she stands.

  Just like that she seems to be uninterested in this topic that has monumentally changed my perspective of everything.

  "No." I grab her hip before she runs off and I scoot my chair back, pulling her to straddle me. "How big is the operation?"

  "Big." She huffs and looks away saying, "Big, big. Bigger than I wanted it to be and I don't know how it expanded so rapidly. Things have spiraled out of control and Brad's trying to get it back in order."

  "So you're divorced, but you're still close," I mention and kiss over her collarbone to keep indication to my nervousness hidden.

  "This is a stupid conversation, Dominic." She huffs and tries to pull away but I wrap my arm around her back and pull her tight against me.

  Continuing the exploration with my mouth, I tell her, "No it's not. I want to know what my chances are."

  "Chances for what?" she snaps, placing her palms on my shoulders and pushing me back so I stop kissing her.

  And here is the part that's going to route us backward.

  "Chances of getting my girl back."

  "Dom, I—" A knock at the door cuts her off and her eyes flit to the living room. "Have to answer the door."

  I drop my hands from her sides and withhold my sigh as she moves from straddling me. Getting to my feet, I take our plates to the kitchen and when I walk back into the dining room I see it's Brad standing in the living room with her. He's just as surprised to see me and we're in a stare down.

  "I didn't know you had company," he says but doesn't move his eyes from me.

  "I do," she responds in a firm tone that makes any creeping worries I had when seeing him here lessen.

  "I didn't know you liked to keep the company of lowlifes that frequent trap houses." He looks at her and I step forward.

  "What're you doing here, Brad?" She becomes a wall between us, knowing I won't do anything if she's there.

  "I brought you this. And just checking in on my wife." His hand slips to her hip and my brows raise as I look at Nyla who sighs and drops her head.

  Before I end up being played again, I look toward Nyla's hand, verifying she's not wearing a ring. I scope his hand for verification too.

  "Answer me this." I walk toward him, ready to knock this motherfucker out. "How is my girlfriend, your wife?"

  She gasps. "Dominic." And her arm slams into my chest as I head for the fucker.

  "You're a thug, kid." He laughs at me. "She's not the woman you remember. She's evolved from a child into a woman, whereas your mentality is still resting in adolescence. She's getting one thing from you right now because I refuse to sleep with her."

  "Dom," Nyla blurts when I try to push past her and her arms wrap around my waist. "Brad, leave. We're divorced. I didn't invite you in, and don't want you here."

  "What're you gonna do, Ny? Call the cops?" He laughs. "Come at me," he taunts me. "I'll have you cuffed and in a cell before consciousness returns."

  "Get the fuck out," she snaps at him.

  "When you're done whoring around, Nyla, I'll be waiting for you to realize I'm the man you need." He throws something small at her face and it falls to the floor before he turns to head out.

  While she's distracted with the object, I head for him and yank his shoulder. "I may never be the man she needs." When he's spun back around facing me, I give him a second to block before I swing, clocking him in the jaw and sending him stumbling back against the door. "But I'll always be the man she wants."

  Nyla's panicked, he's disoriented and maybe in shock I hit him, but the second he threw something at her, he was a dead man. The only reason he's still on his feet is because Nyla wouldn't be okay with me killing this man in her apartment. She tends to his bleeding mouth, frantically trying to calm him down.

  "Why are you like this?" shrieks from her while she stares at me in disbelief, as if she's forgotten the real me.

  "I'll let you play someone else with this tool, La. You call me when you realize what I said is true."

  With both hands she grabs onto my arm before I make it to the door, and looking up at me with a begging expression she says, "Don't leave." Quickly turning for Brad, she says, "Let me get you ice for your face."

  "Don't bother," he scoffs and starts straightening his shirt that's spotted with red droplets from his lip. "You can expect assault and battery against a cop. Kiss your freedom goodbye, you thug! Convict!" he snarls at me and heads for the door.

  Before I can shut the door he turns back, opening his mouth wide to go off but Nyla slams it in his face and locks it, chain and all.

  "I'm not your damn girlfriend," she snaps, marching toward me and I flinch, expecting to be hit but she shoves something at me.

  I look down at the necklace, realizing this was what he threw at her face and I almost drop it and stomp it. Instead, I pop the locket and see my seventeen year old face in there.

  "My girl?" My fingers slide into her hair while with my other hand I hold the locket and pull her clo
ser.

  "Dom." She huffs and squats, covering her face a minute before saying, "You have to stop hitting people. You can't just punch someone in the face. This isn't like… like… prison! Where a fight is a fight. You're going to be arrested and because of your past, you're going to end up going back to prison. You're lucky he didn't have cuffs on him because he would have made a big show of arresting you. God, just please stop. This is why I need you out of the business. He can and after that, will, make your life hell."

  "Are you hurt?" I squat in front of her, not sure why she's in this position.

  "No. I'm thinking." She glances at the look across my face, then shoves me off my heels and laughs, standing again.

  "I'll stop punching people, La, but he called you a whore."

  "He didn't call me a whore, he insinuated I was acting like one." She huffs and walks to the table, grabbing her glass of wine. "I'm serious, if you get into one more fight, I won't speak to you again." Her serious gaze pegs me to my spot before she takes a drink of wine.

  "He fucking threw something at you! I'm going to do what I'm good at to stop assholes like him."

  "Oh god, Dominic!" she scoffs. "I'm good at sucking dick, I don't just walk around doing it! You're acting like a brat! You used to call me a brat all the time, well the tables have turned, let me tell you." She raises her glass before drinking the rest. "He is an asshole, but I can handle him."

  "Go back," I say as I approach her. "You are so good at sucking dick." I grin cupping her face and drag my thumb over her lip. "You can do it to me whenever you want." I shrug and she rolls her eyes, not amused by my compliment. "So what is this?" I lift the chain.

  "It's my locket. The chain broke the other day when I was at Whitlock and he fixed it for me. My dad gave it to me." When she attempts to put it on, I help. "How'd you know to open it? That it was a locket?" She looks down at the obvious locket.