Breach

by K. I. Lynn

  “Sorry, I…really had to go.” The lie seemed apparent, even to my own ears. It was then that I realized I never did get to use the restroom the way I had intended.

  “Okay…”

  We started to chat about his first day and how it went. It had been enjoyable enough. He was happy to have left Lerner, Sorenson, and Martin, and return to Holloway and Holloway. He lamented having turned down their offer during our internship together.

  My pussy was still begging for release, and I wondered if it was like blue balls for men. I was crawling out of my skin. I needed to leave. I needed to find Nathan and yell at him for leaving me in such a state before I fucked his brains out into the morning.

  Drew leaned in to say something, his face inches from mine when he said the unimaginable. “What’s that smell?”

  “Smell?” I questioned. My nerves were shot. Please, no. Please, no.

  Andrew sniffed around. “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t notice. It smells like…” He leaned closer to whisper in my ear. “It smells like come.”

  It was my turn for my eyes to widen. My mouth dropped open in disbelief that Nathan had been correct. Men could smell him.

  “I…well… It is a dive bar.”

  Andrew stared at me. “Don’t tell me it’s coming from you.” Silence surrounded us, and I had no idea how to respond. “Is that what took you so long in the bathroom? Letting some random guy get his rocks off all over you?”

  My embarrassment switched to anger. I did not like his implications. “You know what, Andrew, what I do is no longer any of your concern.”

  Andrew’s eyes darted around the bar, looking for the guilty party. “So my friend getting fucked in a bathroom by some stranger is none of my concern? Who is the cock sucker?”

  “Technically, I’m the cock sucker.” I gave him a sweet smile. “Just so you know it wasn’t some random guy. I don’t need you to come in here and play big brother, or knight. It’s my business, not yours.”

  With that I stood, threw a twenty on the bar and walked out.

  I walked home as fast as my legs would carry me and stepped into an awaiting elevator. My fingers hit the button for the fourteenth floor over and over in my agitation. After a few minutes, I arrived at his door and began pounding. I was not going to use my key; he was coming to me.

  It took him a moment to get the door opened and when it did, he stared at me in surprise.

  I launched myself at him, pushing him against the wall as the door clicked closed behind me. “You, sir, are a fucking bastard.”

  CHAPTER 13

  My fists clenched in the fabric of his shirt, my gaze glaring. I couldn’t believe all that had happened in the last hour. It was unbelievable what he had done and that Andrew could smell it on me. I was so embarrassed and pissed…and still turned on. I had to be a sick pervert.

  “What the fuck was that all about?”

  He smirked in that damned way he always did.

  “He noticed.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Good.”

  His hands moved to grab my ass, pulling me against his body.

  My hand smacked against his chest. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

  “You’re the one who said you were mine,” he said, throwing my words back at me. “I was just making it known.”

  I pushed out of his arms and stepped back, regarding him warily. His arms crossed in front of his chest, closing himself off. “You’re always trying to push me away, but I want you to think about it. I mean really think about me no longer being around…or better yet, me with another man, screaming out his name as his cock is buried in me. Tell me, what do you think now?”

  I watched his face contort as he did what I asked. The usual myriad of emotions flickered across his face, but then there was a softness I’d never seen before, and it made him look very different.

  In a split second, he snatched hold of my wrist and pulled me to him. His eyes widened and his gaze shot down to his hand, staring in absolute disbelief. It had been impulse. The moment he thought about me with another man, his possessive side came out.

  His hand relaxed and as it began to drop, I slid mine into his. His eyes grew in alarm, his breath picking up in tempo.

  “Shh,” I soothed, my thumb running over his in small circles. His eyes looked tormented, tearing at me. The simple gesture of affection was almost too much for him.

  My gaze flickered to a hole in the wall next to his head that had not been there before we went out. It was out of place, on the opposite side of the foyer from the others.

  “Did you punch another hole in the wall?” I questioned. “Were you angry that you let yourself go again and showed me the real you?” His face became steel, like he didn’t want to admit I was right. “Did you do that because you were pissed at taking me in a public restroom or because you claimed me as yours?”

  All expression on his face fell away.

  “What does it matter?” he asked in almost a sigh of defeat.

  “What does it matter?” I mimicked. “We’ve been going with the flow and then all of the sudden… I don’t get you.”

  “You’re the one who wants to ‘be.’ I told you it was a bad idea,” he spat. He picked up a glass from the table next to the door that contained a small amount of amber colored liquid and tipped it against his lips.

  “Yes, but your actions back at the bar? Laying claim to me caveman style? Being possessive and jealous?” He stared at me in disbelief as the words began to match up in his mind, showing him what he’d done. “You changed things.”

  His gaze snapped back to me and the painful expression looked like it turned to fear then anger. His arm swung out, throwing the glass in his hand into the wall. It shattered into tiny pieces as he yelled out. I jumped at his sudden aggression, surprised by his actions.

  “Fuck!” His hands tugged at his hair. “Why was he there?”

  “Who? Andrew?” I was confused, wondering what Andrew had to do with anything.

  “He doesn’t know shit about me!” His lips twitched and his nostrils flared.

  “Well, he seems to think he knows something.”

  “With all the rumors, he probably believed them. He seems the type.”

  “Before I touch that last part…what rumors?”

  That stopped him cold and he turned to stare at me. “Lila, you’re intelligent, so I know you’ve figured out transactional law and contracts are not my area, but I can do it.”

  I nodded. “You don’t have the personality and no one graduates with honors from Harvard Law to work contracts at a law firm in Indianapolis, albeit a large one.”

  “Exactly.”

  There was a pause, his hand moving through his hair, tugging at the chestnut strands. His jaw clenched, his forehead crinkled, as if lost in thought.

  “The last few years…hell, they’ve been hell…” He trailed off and began pacing in front of me. His other hand moved to his chest, fisting the fabric above his heart. “I can’t go through that pain again. If I love you, then that’s something they can take away from me. Take revenge on me by hurting you. I can’t deal with that.” His voice dropped to a whisper, so low I almost couldn’t make out what he said. “Not again.”

  My heart thudded in my chest when he mentioned even the prospect of loving me; admitting to both of us that it was a possibility.

  He stopped and turned back to me, closing the distance. He surprised me; his lips attacked my mouth, his tongue forcing its way in to mix with mine. There was desperation in his actions. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me to him. Our need was fierce, pushing and pulling.

  He slowed his kisses. They became lighter, almost savoring. He leaned back, his hand reached up, caressing my cheek with the backs of his fingers.

  “I’m not worried about you being hurt by me, Lila. I’m worried about you being hurt because of me.”

  He was soft and tender for the briefest of moments. Even that seemed too much for him and
his expression turned pained, and then the pacing resumed.

  He stopped with his back facing me, and I watched a shudder move through him; from his head down his spine. His agitation seeped out, infecting me.

  I took my bottom lip between my teeth, my fingers knotted and fidgeted at my waist. My whole body was shaking; my chest constricted, hindering my ability to breathe.

  We were the same.

  Broken.

  His pacing resumed, and I heard him mumbling, but I couldn’t make out the words. For a brief moment, I feared for his sanity. His chest expanded in deep hard breaths. I couldn’t tell what emotion would face me as they were all present, and the anxiety in the room continued to grow. He turned and stopped in front of me. His nostrils flared, his eyes wide, and I took an involuntary small step back, my body bending away from him. His gaze ran up and down my body, taking me in.

  “You think being a federal prosecutor is great. You work hard to put heinous criminals away, hopefully for good. You don’t think about the repercussions. About how the ones you’re prosecuting or their families may be angry with you and want revenge for you trying to uphold the law and make people safe. You don’t think about how someone will try to take your life because they blame you for ruining their life or their loved ones. They don’t care who else gets hurt in their quest to get to you. Sometimes they even threaten them to scare you.” His manic pacing resumed.

  After a moment, he headed to the living room and sat down on the couch. His eyes were fixed on the fireplace, his leg bouncing at a furious pace. He picked up a sandstone coaster from the coffee table and twirled it in his hand.

  I moved to stand near him, remaining silent so he would continue. A snarl ripped through his chest as his arm pulled back and he chucked the coaster into the fireplace. It fractured, sending dust and debris around the room.

  “I was cocky. I thought nothing and no one could touch me. I was very wrong.” His eyes were glassy and his voice wooden.

  The weight of all his words dropped me to the ground in front of him. A tear escaped and landed on the carpet between us. There was more, so much more he was omitting.

  “I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t handle it, not after... I tried, I did. I failed miserably when not even a month back in, I exploded in the court room.”

  His eyes met mine. His look was pleading, begging me for understanding.

  “But you’re not a prosecutor anymore,” I observed.

  “Do you think that matters, Lila?” he asked. “This condo? It isn’t even under my name. Because I’m still alive.”

  There was a shift, and calmness took hold of him. It was eerie, and I assumed it was from years of hiding from everyone. He just flipped the switch and that was it. Topic ended.

  His gaze bored into mine, and I felt oddly exposed. It was like he was opening me up, seeing everything that I was…or wasn’t.

  “Why are you so empty?” he asked.

  I stared at him, stunned.

  “I can see it as clear as day. It’s one of the many things that drew me to you. You’re empty. You wear a mask to hide it, to make yourself seem somewhat normal, but your face… Do you know how expressionless it is when you think no one is looking? I provoke you to get some kind of reaction, like you provoke me to feel. Have you ever been happy?”

  I was bombarded with question after question, and my anxiety started clawing its way through my being.

  “Is that why you chose law? Contracts in general, because it’s cold with precise guidelines? The people at the office don’t see it. They think you’re frigid, but I know you have a loving soul. The problem is you were never shown love, right? That’s very cruel, to grow up without love,” he stated with a cool tone, his eyebrow quirked in curiosity.

  “Shut up!” I jumped to my feet, my fists clenched at my sides, my eyes blazing. I felt like a cat; the hackles standing on my neck, baring my teeth as I hissed. It was like he was poking me with a stick, and I wanted to swat at him to get him to stop.

  He stood and walked over to stand directly in front of me. “Why? Because you don’t want someone to point out what you’re lacking? That’s why things failed with you and Andrew, isn’t it? He couldn’t take your darkness, couldn’t fill your void. He seems like the type to want to fix something that’s broken.”

  “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” I screamed, my fists beating against his chest.

  He needed to stop, I needed him to stop. How? How did he know what no one else knew?

  I can’t stand to look at you.

  No one will ever want you. No one will ever love you.

  I hate you. I never wanted you. I was dumped with you.

  You. Are. Nothing.

  “Please, it hurts!” I moaned, my heart shredding inside me.

  “Why?”

  “Because I was never wanted, I was never good enough, never smart enough, never loved! He hated me; I was in the way of his happiness, shackled to him.”

  Their words were running through my mind on a loop. All of the things they had said to me my whole life.

  I wish you’d never been born.

  No one wants you here, you should just leave.

  “He hated that my mother died and forced me upon him: a child he never wanted from a woman he knew for a day. The things he said, the looks he gave…so many times, he wouldn’t even give me that. It hurt more than when he smacked me or grabbed me and yelled. Those were the only times he ever touched me. He was my father. He was supposed to love me. Protect me!” My chest felt like it was ripping as I spilled my darkest secrets, showing him just how much I was lacking.

  His face was pale, but there was no abhorrent look of pity—more like an expression of understanding and empathy. So, I took a deep breath and braced myself so I could continue on.

  “My stepmother, she ignored me. Oh, God…the nasty things she would say to bring me down. She knew he wouldn’t stop her; he encouraged her. Then there was Adam…” I paused, but wasn’t sure I could find the words to describe him. I shivered as I envisioned him, sneering at me. My whole body shook with violent vibrations.

  “He took high advantage of being able to say and do whatever he wanted. He hated it when I moved in, hated his beloved stepfather bringing him a sister, and made it his personal mission to make me the most alienated and bullied kid in school. I kept my head down, my mouth shut, and prayed for someone to see me. For someone to love me… I still don’t know why I never killed myself. I thought about it, a lot.”

  My voice was cracking at the end; I couldn’t take anymore. It felt like my chest had been cut open, and my worthless self had been laid bare for Nathan to see, to dissect, and then to abandon as a lost cause. I wouldn’t blame him, because everything he said was true. I was hollow, nothing but emptiness. I so craved the love I had been denied and the chance to love in return. Words could not express how deeply I craved the feeling of being wanted.

  Nathan did that. He made me feel what I hadn’t ever felt before: wanted, desired, beautiful, sexy. To him, I was all of those. He made me start to think all I’d been led to believe was a lie. He was filling the void. I would give him anything he wanted. It was twisted and unhealthy, but I didn’t care. My feelings for him were more than I had ever felt for anyone in my life.

  Sobs wracked my body, my fists losing their momentum. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me to him, holding me up.

  His fingers stroked my hair, calming me. “You’re dead inside, just like me.”

  “That’s not true,” I argued. “You have very strong emotions, violent almost.”

  He laughed. It was almost maniacal. “You don’t get it.” He pulled back to look at me, his gaze serious and intense. My muscles tensed in response. “I wish I was dead.” I stared up at him in disbelief. “I wish the paramedics had taken five more minutes to get there.”

  Without thought, my hand reached up and connected with his cheek. It was as involuntary as him grabbing my wrist. I couldn’t stand the mere thought of him not
being there with me. His head snapped back to face me. He wasn’t angry, but stunned instead. Tears slid down my cheeks.

  “Please, don’t leave me,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

  “I wish the battery on the defibrillator had been out,” he continued on; the emotion gone from his face and voice. “That way they wouldn’t have been able to restart my heart. Because then I wouldn’t feel dead inside, in pain daily. Because I wouldn’t be here, hurting you.”

  He paused in thought for a moment, probably asking himself how much he could give.

  “I’m angry because I’m alive. My heart, my soul…they’re gone, dead, but my body remains. This is my purgatory.”

  Tears were streaming down my face even faster. My fists picked up their beating against his chest.

  “No, no, no, no! Please, please, Nathan… I can’t fathom… I need you. You make… I’m falling… Please, please, please.” I begged and pleaded over and over again. For what, I didn’t even know; for him to stay with me, for him to live, for him to never wish to be dead and to be with me always. I needed him to live.

  I couldn’t even make out what I was saying, but I hoped he understood the meaning. I was falling, hard, for him. My chest constricted, and I almost doubled over from the strain. The feeling was so foreign I didn’t know what to do.

  His arms wrapped tighter around me in an attempt to contain me, but I pulled back. My hands smacked his away, hitting his chest.

  “No!” I screamed, pushing him away.

  I didn’t want him to soothe me. Not anymore. If he didn’t want to stay there with me, what was the point?

  “Lila,” he cried out, clearly stunned at my reaction. I could hear the desperation in his tone, panic setting in. His hands grabbed at my arms. “Baby, stop!”

  “No!”

  Every time he tried to restrain me, I escaped. Through my blurry eyes, I saw his panic mixed with anger and frustration.

  He managed to get a hold of my wrists and walk me backward into the wall, pinning me.

  He growled, his forehead resting against mine. “Calm down.”