Broken Circle

by Amy McKinley

  “I’m not done, Liv.” Turning her in his arms, he brushed his lips across hers, deepening the kiss when she parted for him. He backed her up and pinned her against the counter.

  Molded to his body, she let all the tension from the previous night fall away and enjoyed how his mouth moved expertly over hers.

  Too soon, he broke their kiss, a grin curving his lips, and he bent to whisper in her ear. “With how quickly everything happened last night, I didn’t get a chance to give you a very delayed anniversary gift.” His fingers traced the curve of her face, and banked passion blazed in his dark eyes.

  A shiver raced down her spine. “Alex, you gave me two cases of my favorite wine from Savage Seas Winery for our one year. I told you that was the only thing I wanted.” Their first anniversary had been six months ago, one month before the accident.

  “It wasn’t enough. Never is with you. I want to shower you in gifts.” His shoulders tensed for the merest second. “You understand why we couldn’t go on our honeymoon right away?”

  Her smile softened, and she played with the ends of his hair at the back of his head. “Of course. Please stop worrying about that. There will be time for us to travel together. I get how important your work is to you. The timing wasn’t right.”

  He grimaced. “I was so close to busting open the entire south-side cartel and mafia connection. It paid off, us waiting.”

  “It did. You’re brilliant, and shutting the drug-trafficking factions down advanced your career by years. I couldn’t be more proud of you. Just think how that’ll impact the children who are exposed to that. You’re saving lives for future generations. Even ours.”

  “Babe, we’ve talked about this. We can’t have kids. I don’t want them used against me. And they would be. It’s just not a good idea.” He softened his words by pressing a kiss to her pouting lips.

  She frowned, her stomach a caldron of anxiety about telling him. Now was definitely not the time.

  His grimace shifted to a grin. “At least with all the hours I put in, you had time to sculpt. You’ve grown. The finished pieces you sold at the gallery prove that. Although, I have my eye on the dancer you just glazed. Think we may have to keep that.”

  “You saw her? It’s not in any shape for you to see yet. I need to fire it.” She nibbled her lip, holding back her laughter, and very grateful for the change of subject. “Thanks for believing in me.” Her parents had not when it came to sculpting, and the mantle of responsibility she’d worn weighed on her soul. When she had married Alex, he took a large portion of the burden off her.

  “Be proud of what you are.” He must have noticed where her train of thought had gone. “You’re an artist, Liv. Your parents’ goals don’t define you.” Before he could blink them away, dark shadows swirled in his eyes.

  For the hundredth time, she wondered what secrets lived in his past. Someday he would confide in her. Refusing to let her insecurities be an influence, she rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

  “Liv, I want to give you something before I leave for work.” He drew a velvet box from his pocket and opened it. “It was my grandmother’s.”

  Her hand fluttered to her mouth, and her gaze found his. An intricate silver design held a round stone of mercurial blues and purples. The antique setting looked very old.

  Intense love collided with the swirling darkness that danced through his eyes. She recognized the strong emotion and the vulnerability that flashed in his brown depths on rare occasions. This piece of him, of his past with a grandmother he’d adored, meant a great deal, and the emotional weight of it caused her hands to shake. If only she’d had a chance to meet the woman before she’d died, or his mother, for that matter, who lived in Venezuela. For reasons Liv didn’t fully understand, his mother had missed their wedding. “It’s beautiful. I’m honored, Alex.”

  “I would have given it to you sooner, but after last night, I thought this was the perfect time to give you my grandmother’s brooch.”

  Her brow furrowed. After the confrontation when we left the restaurant?

  “My mother said this was my grandmother’s favorite piece, one she kept with her always. Now, as my wife, it belongs to you”—he grinned—“even though I know you don’t wear pins.”

  Laughter filled the air, and they said in unison, “Because they ruin clothes.”

  He tweaked her nose. “Our jeweler has the measurements and picture. This is temporary—the charm bracelet it’s on. I think having it dangle like that could cause it to be hit too often and break. I’m going to have it mounted onto another design, one with a thin silver cuff.”

  “It’s lovely, Alex.” She ran her fingers over the smooth, fiery blue-green stone. Paraiba tourmaline, perhaps? A beat passed, and the air thickened as she looked from the gift to him. The strange seriousness of his expression caused her to pay closer attention to his next words.

  “You hold both my past and future in your hands.”

  Chapter 4

  Alex. God, he was an inferno. Liv wanted nothing more than to wiggle against him and wake fully to the desire sizzling through her veins. Even with her heated body cuddled in Alex’s arms on their bed, her mind buzzed.

  Each new day held promise, and because of Alex, she was supported in her career, excelled at it even.

  Careful not to disturb him, Liv eased away, moved his heavy arm from her waist, and dropped her legs over the side of the bed. Gentle rays of sunlight streamed through the gauzy curtains of their other home. The Upper East Side apartment she’d owned prior to marrying Alex was where they stayed during the week. If there was not a weekend function, they stayed in the Hamptons, which was her favorite.

  Arms overhead, Liv stretched then stood. She slipped into her discarded top and panties and went to find where she’d dropped her purse, eager to find her pencils and sketchbook.

  Her muse was Alex. Always. The images burned into her mind needed an outlet, and after sketching them, she wanted to immortalize them in clay. Her vision gave birth to a new series of sensual embraces. She longed to create lovers entwined in each other’s arms and had already finished several of the pieces she’d imagined. Still, more called to her in various positions to design.

  Even though she wanted to remain in bed with Alex, inspiration pulled her, and she smiled. He could use the rest while she worked, especially after last night, and he had paperwork to do later in the day. Her stomach fluttered, and she took note of how deliciously sore she was.

  On bare feet, she padded over the stained concrete floor of her brightly lit studio. She plucked her sketchbook and pencils from where she’d dropped her oversized purse and went to the kitchen to make some coffee and do a little work. Clad in only ivory silk panties and matching camisole, she enjoyed the sensual connection to the form in her mind that cried out to be born.

  She set her coffee on the table and hooked a toe onto the rung of her chair to drag it closer. She sat on the edge and flipped her sketchbook open. Pencil poised above the paper, she let the image she wanted to craft flow and take life as she began to sketch.

  Mere seconds passed, and only a preliminary form had appeared when heat seared her backside once more. Strong, sure hands caressed the length of her arms and cupped the hand that sketched on the paper, bringing forth the emerging drawing. Alex caught her between his legs as he joined her on the chair, and her pulse kicked up. She dropped the pencil and shifted her fingers over the outline of the lovers that would soon be a sculpture. His followed.

  She shuddered. Warm breath on her shoulder preceded the small pinch of his teeth as he gently nibbled her skin. The image in her head of her artwork faded, replaced by very real ones. He seduced her from her mind, bringing her fully to the present with him.

  The tight clenching of her abdomen had her shifting to press back against his hard shaft. In agonizing slowness, his hand followed the curve of her shoulder, trailed over her back, and came around to brush the underside of her breast and flat stomach before pausing against the
silk between her legs. Air whooshed out of her, and she sagged against him. The drawing sat forgotten on the table.

  Alex released her other arm to grasp the back of her hair and tugged lightly on the strands at her nape. She tilted to the side so he could capture her lips. His tongue teased her, coaxing her to open for him. With a moan, she widened further as he invaded her mouth. Dizzying lust and need flamed higher as he hooked his feet on the insides of hers and spread her legs wide. Tormenting caresses over her silky underwear ceased, and she whimpered. Pressed against him, her skin heated, every spot he caressed hypersensitive.

  His fingers skimmed the edges of her underwear, teasing. Arching, she urged him to touch her. He dipped inside her panties and slid his fingertips along her soaked seam. He spread the wetness over her clit in a slow circle, and she nipped at his bottom lip, desperate for more…for him.

  Heat pooled at her center as his finger sank inside her. The world spun as another finger joined the first, stretching, accommodating her for when his shaft replaced his hands.

  Uncaring of her charcoal-smeared hands, she threaded them into his thick, dark hair and pulled his mouth to her hammering pulse as she arched to the side, her legs still prisoner. He grazed his teeth against her sensitive flesh, and she cried out. Strong arms lifted her body, repositioning it so she sat astride him, face to face. Pressing against his hardness, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her mouth crashed into Alex’s, and her tongue tangled with his as he ground against her. With a growl, he maneuvered them enough to shove his boxers down and her panties aside. In one move, he sank fully into her wet sheath. She moaned, letting him hold her weight as he filled her, sending electric pulses through her entire body.

  Finding a rhythm, he held her hips, taking over their pace. Head bent, he teased her nipples through the thin silk. Pleasure danced along her nerve endings. With every stroke, caress, and kiss, she climbed higher. Alex leaned her back more, and she braced herself on the edge of her table. With each thrust, he sank deeper and impossibly farther inside her. White sparks flashed behind her eyes, and her body tensed. Seating himself all the way, he filled her full and joined her in shouting his release.

  The slide of his hands along her waist, ribs, and back only heightened her awareness of him. Several moments passed while their breathing regulated. He pulled her to his chest, and she nestled under his chin. The kiss at the top of her head made her smile. Her body molded to her husband’s, sated.

  In a sinuous move, he lifted her with him, and her legs automatically wrapped around his waist. Supporting her, Alex carried them from her studio, still imbedded within her. The twitch she felt deep inside stirred a small ounce of energy and a wicked grin. In a matter of minutes, she knew he would be hard once more. God, she loved him.

  There were many different ways he made love to her. Sometimes he did so in a desperate frenzy, as if each moment, each time, would be their last. He already ruled her heart and her world, but the intensity of his actions made no sense to her. She was his. When he seduced her like he’d just done, those were her favorite moments.

  Alex carried her into their bathroom, reached forward, and turned on the water so they could shower. Tensing, she prepared to slide down his body. His chuckle and strong hands holding her hips stopped her. She sank deeper, and he moaned, stiffening.

  “Liv,” his deep voice purred. “What could possibly pull you from our bed so early in the morning before I had you?” He chuckled. “Think I should punish you?”

  She met his laughing gaze with a wicked one of her own. “Maybe you should.”

  He smacked her butt, stepped into the tepid water, and pressed her against the cool tiles. Time spun out as he thoroughly made love to her under their rainfall shower. Her husband was insatiable, and she loved him even more for it.

  The bath mat beneath her feet bore Alex’s wet footprints. Shifting, she sought a dryer portion as he wrapped a fluffy towel around her body, drawing her in for a hug. His warmth chased the chill away, and she leaned into him. Would she ever get enough of him?

  He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “What were you sketching?”

  She squeezed him back, happy. “A new series I’ve begun to sculpt.” She tilted her head, caught his gaze, and grinned. “You’re my muse.”

  He laughed. “I am, huh?” In a slow up-and-down motion, he rubbed her arms. “Well, this muse needs breakfast. Have you eaten?”

  “Of course not. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll join you in the kitchen.”

  “I’ll get the coffee started, and maybe some eggs too.” He tweaked her nose then exited the bathroom so she could continue to dress.

  In the distance, the doorbell rang. When she heard Alex answer the door, she thought she would have a few more minutes to get ready.

  Running the brush through her hair, she studied her reflection in the foggy mirror. Flushed cheeks and bright eyes stared back. Alex did that to her—made her happy. So much had changed since he’d come into her life.

  She suffocated under her parents’ shadow in the role they’d cast her in. As an artist, she needed to create, not make political connections and have conversations over countless luncheons, dinner parties, and various events.

  She slipped her legs into a new pair of panties and put on a matching bra before pulling slacks and a cream silk blouse from her closet. Liv couldn’t help her mind from returning to the past and, not for the first time, she thanked fate for crossing her path with Alex’s. Her life would have been very different if she had meekly caved to any of the senators’ sons her parents had pushed on her.

  Liv padded into the bedroom and saw that Alex had left the paper he’d been reading on his bedside table. She picked it up and froze at the smiling picture of her parents, one of many the aggressive photographers had taken of them when they were out. Their death had brought a flurry of reprinted pictures of their past. The paparazzi had always existed in their lives because of her father being a senator and her family’s wealth that could be traced back more than a century.

  With her finger, she followed the line of her mother’s face in the photo. She was beautiful, no doubt. Her mother had maintained the same youthful mahogany hair she’d had in her younger years, an identical shade to Liv’s natural color. Their only difference was that Liv wore her hair long rather than shoulder-length. With her Italian lineage, her mom’s olive-toned skin had stayed flawless. Men had admired her full lips, high cheekbones, and her deep-brown, almond-shaped eyes, framed in long, spiky lashes. Liv looked like her mom, and they had often been mistaken for sisters. She smiled and dropped the article, pushing aside the melancholy that was trying to gain a foothold.

  “Hey, Liv.”

  She knew that tone, the one dripping with teasing mystery that clung to her name. Alex had been even more attentive than usual after she’d heard him on the phone, determined to assure her there were no secrets and that everything was fine.

  What did he have in store for her now? Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she rounded the corner, anticipation crawling along her skin.

  A grin stretched her lips wide, unable to hide her excitement. “I’m coming. What is it?”

  Arms full with a sizable box, he walked from the closing elevator and bent to kiss her before walking toward her studio.

  “Alex!” Laughter bubbled up as she followed him, quickening her pace to keep up. “What did you do?”

  He set the box on her table, turned, and swept her into his arms. “A little present. Open it.”

  Liv peeled back the packing tape, ripped open the box, and sucked in a breath.

  “Let me help you.” Alex tore the sides and lifted two twenty-five-pound blocks of red clay. “Do you want this on the shelving over there, where the rest is?”

  “Yes. Alex, it’s so pretty. Is it from California?”

  “Of course. I listen when you talk.”

  That was true, he did. He also confided in her when he needed someone to talk to. Their relationship was strong
. She didn’t keep secrets from him. Her pregnancy didn’t count—she would tell him. And other than confidential aspects of his job, he didn’t keep secrets, either.

  “What are you going to make with it?”

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth, sparks shooting through her body. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” Up on her toes, she slid her arms around his neck and played with his thick hair. “I’m going to finish a series of us together and one other piece that’s been hovering around in my mind.” Laughing, she kissed the satisfied smirk that appeared on his face. “Since you listen so well, remember, we have that event tonight.”

  “I’m in good with the Radcliffs. I just had lunch with Joe, and I’m aware you weren’t looking forward to going. He and your dad already locked me in as a candidate as your dad’s successor. It’s basically a done deal. Then after meeting Senator Davidson some time ago, thanks to you, I’m a shoo-in, no matter what.”

  Her smile fell, and she wondered at his conviction.

  Chapter 5

  Five blissful days passed with no social obligations and plenty of time to work. It was the weekend, and Liv and Alex decided to stay at their home in the Hamptons again.

  Alex had converted a back room adjacent to Liv’s studio into a place to house her kiln. Shelves lined the wall and stored her works in progress. Glazes, washes, and her tools had their own space in a large armoire. A door separated the back room from her studio, which blazed with warmth and stunning views of the coast. Her workspace had big windows on two sides, allowing for maximum natural light. Situated off the back of their home, the studio was divided from the main house by a door.

  If they ever moved, she would need another view to rival this one, with the inspiration of crashing waves as a backdrop.