Fractured Lines

by Jen McLaughlin

  My epiphany about getting help had come too late.

  “Finn.”

  I looked at Carrie again, memorizing everything about her. The way her soft red hair framed her face. The way the later afternoon sunlight streamed through the curtains, making her blue eyes seem even bluer. The soft yellow hues that made her seem more fragile than ever, and the tears streaming down her face. I didn’t want to forget a single detail because this was our last time together.

  This was the end.

  “I know.” I curled my hands into fists to stop myself from grabbing her and begging her to let me stay. “I’ll go.”

  I walked toward the door, but she reached out and grabbed my elbow. “Wait.”

  “Why? If you want me to go, it’s best if I just…go. I love you with everything I have, and I want to stay. I want you to want me to stay. I want to be here, at your side, until we’re old and wrinkled and eating chocolate pudding with our dentures out.”

  She covered her mouth, tears falling out faster than before. Then she lowered her hand and shook her head, struggling to speak. “I-I want that, too.”

  “I know you did. We both did. But you’ve changed your mind, and I don’t blame you at all. It’s my fault that this is happening. I walked away, after swearing to never do it again. I broke your heart, even though I swore I wouldn’t.” I slammed my fist on my thigh. It hurt. I welcomed the pain. “I broke every single promise I ever made to you. I ruined everything.”

  “Don’t say that.” She licked her lips, her eyes locked on mine. “It’s not true. You didn’t do any of this on purpose. You didn’t choose to be injured on assignment. You didn’t choose to suffer from PTSD. You didn’t choose to get in a car accident. And you certainly didn’t choose to hurt me again. Not really.”

  My heart sped up, even though I knew I was being foolish to hope she’d changed her mind. “But I did. I hurt you.”

  She hesitated, but nodded once. “You did.”

  “That’s why I have to go. I love you so damn much, but I know you’re better off without me. I’d never be the one to say it, but you’re saying it.” I stared at Susan. She stacked some blocks on top of each other. She had her tongue out, caught between her lips, and she looked so much like Carrie did when she was concentrating that it hurt. “You’re asking me to leave, and you’re right. It’s for the best.”

  “Wait,” she said again, struggling to her feet.

  “Damn it, I can’t,” I said, closing my eyes. I couldn’t look at her right now. She was so pretty and so not mine. Not anymore. “If I wait, I’ll try to talk you out of it. I’ll selfishly beg you to let me stay, when you’re making the right choice. I’ll selfishly remind you of all the good years we’ve had, and I’ll try to make you forget the rest. I need to go, now, without looking at you again. Because I swear, Carrie, it gets harder to walk away every time. Every time I walk away, I die even more inside. I don’t know if I’ll be able to survive another time. If I’ll have enough left of me to go on.”

  “But you see.” She made a broken sound and cupped my face. I still didn’t open my eyes. I couldn’t. If I did, I’d break. “I don’t want you to go.”

  My heart stuttered to a stop. I gripped her arms, still not looking at her. “What?”

  “Look at me.”

  “Carrie…” I opened my eyes. She stared up at me, her blue eyes so deep and meaningful it stole the breath right out of my lungs. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what? Don’t ask you to stay? Don’t ask you to leave?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  “The reason I told you to go is simple. I thought you were only here because you had to be. To take care of me while I was weak.” She let go of me and lowered her hand to her lap. It shook. “I’m not weak anymore. I’m stronger. I can lift Susan. I can cook food. I’ll be fine.”

  My heart splintered and fell to the floor. “But you’re not better. You might feel better, but I see the pain in your eyes. I feel it.”

  “I know.” She stroked my jaw with her thumbs. “I feel yours, too. It hurts to see you so alone. So scared. So…so…”

  I was hurting her. I wanted to stop. “I’ll go.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Carrie…”

  “I don’t want you to go. I swear it.” She reached up on tiptoe and kissed me, her lips gentle and soft in a barely there caress. “I’d never want you to leave me, Finn. I’d never want that. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, too. I want to have more babies and watch them grow up. I want to grow old with you, and I want that chocolate pudding, too. And the dentures.” She let out a nervous laugh. “I want it all, with you. But know this—if you want to leave…if that’s still what you want—”

  “No. I don’t.” I cupped the back of her head, my hand shaking so hard it was a wonder I didn’t pull her hair out. “I want to stay. I want to stay so damn bad.”

  “Then stay.”

  My splintered heart pieced itself back together, inch by painful inch. “Are you sure? After everything I’ve done…everything I’ve said.”

  She smiled up at me, tears in her eyes. “I’m positive as a proton.”

  “Da!” Susan pulled on my pants leg. “Da! Up!”

  “I love you.” I kissed Carrie, keeping it light. When I pulled back, I stared down into those blue eyes that had always mesmerized me. The ones I couldn’t live without. I dropped my forehead on hers, breathing in her sweet scent. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

  She shuddered and clung to me. “I love you, too.”

  And then I kissed her. A full-on, tongues entwining, passionate kiss that made so many promises, all over again. Promises I intended to keep this time.

  “Ma!” Susan yelled, smacking Carrie’s leg. “Da!”

  Choking on a laugh, I broke off the kiss. “I think she wants in on this,” I whispered, smiling against Carrie’s lips. “To be continued?”

  She nodded. “To be continued.”

  I bent down and picked Susan up, and she snuggled into my chest, yawning. I smiled at Carrie, who smiled back at me. For the first time in weeks, I let out a relieved breath. We’d fought for our love. Fought for each other.

  And we’d won.

  We’d really fucking won.

  Finn

  Later that night, I closed the door to Susan’s room and took a deep breath. The evening had passed in a quiet fashion, feeling extremely normal and happy and unreal. We’d played with Susan and had a family night just like we used to before the night it had all changed. It had been a perfect evening.

  Life was normal again, and I might be getting there, too.

  When I pushed off the wall and headed for the stairs, I only made it two steps before I stopped in front of our bedroom. The lights were dimmed, and they’d been off when I’d come up. Had Carrie snuck upstairs when I’d been busy with Susan? I peeked my head inside…and froze. Just fucking froze.

  She’d come upstairs, all right.

  And gotten naked.

  She stood in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but a pair of fuck-me heels and her long red hair that I loved. Her pale skin screamed for my touch, as did her hard nipples. Hell, it all did. But I stayed where I was, not daring to move so much as an inch.

  Her newest scar, the evidence of my inability to protect her when she’d needed me most, stood out against her pale skin. I stared at it, swallowing past the pain the sight caused me. But I forced myself to look at the rest of her, taking it all in.

  She was so gorgeous, in every way possible, and I was the luckiest man in the world. “Fuck,” I said, my voice somehow reverent despite the word I uttered. “Carrie.”

  She cocked her head and played with a curl. “Yeah?”

  She looked so fucking brave. So beautiful. As if she had no doubt of her welcome whatsoever. And why would she doubt it? She was always welcome.

  But I hadn’t expected this.

  “You’re—” My voice broke off into a mo
an when she dropped the curl and trailed her hand down her own hip. I rubbed my jaw. “Jesus.”

  Her lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Why are you still all the way over there?”

  “Are you sure?” I collapsed against the wall, trying to keep my eyes strictly on her face. “Are you feeling okay? Physically? Emotionally? I don’t want to make it worse. Don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know if you’re ready…”

  “Finn?” She sashayed—yes, fucking sashayed—over to me, her lips still curved upward. “There will never be a day where making love to you makes me feel worse.”

  She’d used my words back on me.

  “I’m sure you feel ready,” I said, licking my dry lips. “But if you’re not sure—”

  She stopped in front of me and grabbed the collar of my button-up shirt. “Do you want me or not?”

  She pressed up against me, and I knew my answer was no longer necessary. She now knew with crystal clear clarity exactly how much I wanted her. I answered anyway. “Of course I do. I want you so much it hurts. I always have and always will.”

  She un-popped a button. “I can make the hurt better.”

  I groaned.

  “Finn?” Another button, followed by another.

  “Yeah?” I said through my clenched jaw.

  “I get to be in charge first. That way you don’t have to worry about being too rough or hurting me by accident.”

  I cocked a brow and tried to ignore the need she was bringing out in me with every soft touch of her fingers. I’d need all the control I could muster if she wanted to be in control. “Okay.”

  “Good.” She undid the last button and opened my shirt. She stared at my chest and licked her lips. When she glanced up at me, her blue eyes were sparkling. “You don’t have to call me sir, though.”

  She unbuttoned my pants.

  “Carrie…” She unzipped my pants and slid them down my legs. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to remain still. “You’re still healing. We have to take it slow.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She cupped my cock, squeezing it with the perfect amount of pressure. A groan escaped me, despite my best efforts to hold it back. “Fuuuuck.”

  This would normally be the time that I would toss her onto the bed and fuck her until she came so many times I lost count. But I forced myself to stand still. To let her explore my body, since she’d asked for it.

  “So many bad words coming out of your mouth,” she teased. “Yet you’re just standing there…”

  “That’s because you asked me to,” I gritted. “Normally I’d be fucking you by now.”

  “Then I guess I’ll have to fuck you instead.” She dropped down to her knees, glancing up at me through long red lashes that would tempt the devil himself. “Won’t I?”

  I fisted my hands. “You have no idea what kind of fire you’re playing with, Ginger.”

  “Oh, but I do.” She yanked my boxers down and wrapped her fingers around my cock. Leaning in, she stopped before touching me with those sweet red lips of hers. “I really, really do.”

  She closed her mouth around me and swirled her tongue over the head of my cock. I dropped my head against the wall, my eyes rolling back in my head, and I curled my hands into her hair. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

  She moaned and took more of me in, experimenting with my length and her own mouth. It felt so fucking good, and then it felt even better when she took all of me in, relaxing her throat enough to give it all to me. I gritted my teeth and tried not to move, but that was a fucking impossibility.

  I did it anyway, for her.

  “Watching you fuck me with that hot little mouth of yours is going to kill me,” I said, smoothing her hair back from her face. “But even knowing that, I don’t want you to stop. Go on. Kill me.”

  Groaning, she sucked harder.

  It was official. She was trying to kill me, and she just might succeed.

  I moved my hips a little, thrusting into her, and she cupped my balls with her free hand. I knew, right then and there, that I was fucking lost.

  And I never wanted to be found again.

  Carrie

  “Enough,” he growled. Catching my hair in his fist, he tugged me to my feet gently. I reluctantly let him, getting one last lick in before I succumbed and stood up. He didn’t let go of my hair. My shoulder gave a slight tinge of protest at the movement, but I ignored it. “My turn, Ginger. By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll forget how many times I made you come.”

  “Yes.” My stomach tightened in anticipation. “I’m all yours.”

  His eyes flashed possessively. “Damn right you are.”

  With a groan, he smashed his mouth down on mine. He backed us toward the bed, his hands cupping my face as he ravished my mouth. I groaned and clung to his forearms, letting him guide me where we needed to go. When the backs of my knees hit the mattress, he followed me. His arms cradled me as he let me fall back on the bed.

  Instead of lying on top of me like I’d expected, though, he slid down my body, nipping little patches of skin as he went. My good shoulder. My nipple. My stomach. My hip. And then, oh God…

  His mouth closed over me, and his tongue rolled over my clitoris with the perfect amount of pressure. I slung my legs over his shoulders, groaning and gripping the comforter as tight as I could with my right hand. I could feel the tension building up in my belly already. He slid his hands up my body, cupping my breasts, and scraped his thumbs over the hard nipples. When I squirmed and cried out, he did it again. It drove me wilder, each little touch he did, and I knew what I needed. I needed him to claim me.

  To make me his.

  I tried to lift my hips, straining to get closer to him, but he beat me to it. Without even breaking stride, he cupped my butt with both hands, tipping my hips up. Jackpot, baby. That’s what I’d needed—and he’d known it.

  His tongue thrashed out again, and I stiffened, so close I could taste it.

  “Oh my God,” I cried, squeezing my eyes shut. Every nerve in my body tingled, went numb, and then bam. I exploded into a million fragments. “Finn,” I breathed.

  He lowered my hips to the mattress again and slid me fully onto the bed. As he crawled over me again, this time covering my entire length, I let out a happy sigh. For the first time since I’d woken up from my injuries, I felt home. And it felt amazing.

  “Okay?”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  He kissed me, and I could taste myself mixed with his own unique flavor on his tongue. His hands roamed everywhere. Touching here. Squeezing there. Instantly, my body came back to life, as if he hadn’t just made me have the most explosive orgasm moments before. As if it had been months since I’d had him.

  And I needed more.

  Slowly, I explored his body. Sliding my hands over all of his black ink, interspersed with a few splashes of color. My name. Our motto. The dates his parents had died. The scars on his upper arm. His wavy light brown hair that begged to be tugged. It was all there to see, and more.

  But all I could see, and feel, was this. Us.

  His fingers dipped between my legs, and I let out a strangled groan. When he thrust a finger inside of me, I screamed, “Finn!” I buried my right hand in his hair and yanked hard. “Please. Now.”

  He moved his fingers inside of me, hitting spots I had forgotten existed, and nibbled on my neck. “Nope. Not yet. You’ve forgotten one very important thing.”

  I bit down hard on my lip. “And what would that be?”

  “You like to be teased.” He scraped his teeth over the swell of my breasts, sliding even lower down my body. “You like when I torture you.”

  He closed his mouth over my nipple, biting down enough to hurt a little, but not too much. The mixed sensations of pain and pleasure mingling through my veins were addicting. I wanted more. Needed more. “God, yes.”

  “See?” He smiled and moved lower down my body, nipping skin as he went. When he situated himself between my legs and stared up at me, all p
ossessiveness and desire in his eyes, I sucked in a breath and froze. “And, Ginger, I like making you scream.”

  He set forth with proving that, because he went down on me again. This time he took his sweet time, moving his tongue with a laziness that drove me insane. By the time he had me perched on the edge again, I was seriously contemplating the best way to murder him for this. But the second I came again, all thoughts of murder were gone.

  And I wanted to marry him all over again.

  He let me fall back down to the mattress, his muscles bunching with each motion, and he climbed back up my body. When he moved between my legs, I barely had enough energy to blink. But the second he touched his cock to my clitoris, I lost control. Amazingly, I came again, even harder than before.

  Tears filled my eyes, because the pleasure was that freaking intense, and I clung to him for dear life. He moved inside of me inch by slow inch, giving me time to adjust if needed. I loved him even more for being concerned for me, for caring, but I needed more. I needed him.

  Impatiently, I dug my nails into his butt. “God, hurry up.”

  He stiffened and thrust all the way inside me. Once he was completely buried, he froze, his breathing harsh and uneven. His skin was coated with a thin sheen of sweat, and I knew the effort it took to hold himself back was killing him. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” I smacked his arm. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

  He growled, kissed me, and finally moved with the same passion he always did, while still somehow managing to make sure he didn’t jostle my shoulder. Each time he withdrew and came back inside of me, the tension built higher. Stronger. And by the time he stiffened above me, his face lost in the rapturous pleasure of his orgasm, I was there with him again.

  With a shuddering sigh, he collapsed on top of me, burying his face in my neck. I hugged him tight, not wanting him to leave me yet, even though I could barely breathe like this. Gently, I trailed my fingers up and down his back. Sometime later, he shuddered and burrowed closer.

  “That feels good,” he muttered.

  “Good. That was my intention.”