Visibly Broken

by Chelsea Camaron

  He kisses down my belly as he shoves his hands under me, cupping my ass and spreading me wider. He then sits back on his knees, staring down at my naked flesh, before he loosens the towel wrapped around him, allowing it to fall on the bed. His cock springs free, and he grips it tightly, stroking it in sync with the finger he thrusts back inside of me.

  I watch his strong grip on his vast erection as my hips thrust against his touch while he is looking at the most intimate part of me.

  “Your pussy is stunning.” He takes in a deep breath, and his eyes hood. “Smells delicious.”

  His mouth covers my crotch, and the sensation is overwhelming.

  “No! Oh, God, no.”

  I try to pull back, but he grips my ass, and his licks turn harsher. He pushes his tongue deep inside me until I cry out again.

  I fight the sensation while he holds me steady as he devours me until I can’t fight the feeling anymore. The intense burn builds deep inside of me. I buck against his face and grab his hair.

  “Yes, oh, yes,” I cry out shamelessly.

  He sucks and licks and feasts on me as wave after wave of pleasure rips through my core like it never has before.

  “Stop,” I whimper when I feel like I won’t ever recover from what I know is the most intense orgasm I have ever experienced.

  He doesn’t listen. He pushes a finger deep inside of me and then another as he sucks and licks at my clit.

  “Oh, no,” I cry, gripping the pillow as the burn comes again. “I can’t, Jason. I—”

  “Come for me, Lo. Come for you,” he growls.

  “I don’t think—”

  “You have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen. You taste so good.” He flattens his tongue against me, and I cry. He looks up at me. “Don’t ask me to stop. I won’t.”

  His mouth and fingers continue to pleasure me, and I hold nothing back. My legs are now like rubber, and I am out of breath from trying to hold back.

  Finally, he pushes himself away with a look of regret.

  He then bends back down and kisses me there again before he kisses his way up my body.

  With one hand, he holds himself above me, and with the other, he strokes himself. It’s beautiful. Everything about him is strong and controlling. I feel safe with him.

  “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

  I nod.

  “Look at me, angel.”

  I open my eyes wider. I would do anything to please him right now, anything.

  “I’m gonna fuck you.”

  I spread my legs wider so his large body can fit between them.

  He rubs his cock up and down my seam, coating it with my wetness.

  “So wet, so hot, and so fucking greedy for my cock, aren’t you, angel?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me what you want,” he says, continuing to rub against my highly sensitive pussy.

  “I want you, Jason. I want you.”

  He slams into me then bends down to taste my nipples and then my mouth. He draws back from our kiss as he pulls out almost fully.

  “See how you taste, Lo? How fucking good you taste?”

  He rams into me again and kisses me harder this time. Then he pulls out.

  “No. Please, no,” I beg, wrapping my legs around him and pulling him toward me.

  “Fuck!” he roars and slams into me over and over and over again. “Come, Lo. Fucking come,” he pants.

  “I can’t…Oh, God,” I cry out.

  He pounds into me until I feel my orgasm rip through me again. Then he pulls out, grips himself, and falls back on his heels, still stroking himself.

  “I’m gonna come so hard.”

  I sit up quickly. “I want it. I want your come.”

  “Aw, fuck, Lo,” he hisses, looking at me adoringly. “Open up, angel. It’s all yours.”

  I lean in and open my mouth. He grips the back of my head and pulls me closer until I feel my throat muscles contract. I gag as his hot, thick liquid gushes into my mouth while he cries out my name.

  My name.

  When he pulls back, holding himself, he rubs the head of his cock across my lips. “Thank you.”

  I lie back, unable to take my eyes off him, this man who makes me feel so much more than fear, so much more than pain. He just makes me feel so very good.

  I smile and close my eyes. “No, thank you. That was…” I stop, not wanting to feel shame or embarrassment.

  “Tell me, angel.”

  “In a way, you were my first.” I keep my eyes closed. “I’ve never been with anyone who didn’t think or pretend they were doing it with her.”

  “Are you kidding me? High school? College?”

  “No. Just him and you. But really, just you.”

  I feel the bed dip, and then he is beside me, pulling me against him. “But you were with him.”

  “Not without a wig,” I whisper. “No one has ever said my name like you did, Jason.” I yawn and scoot back against him. “No one.”

  He rubs his rough hand up and down my arm as a soft growl escapes him. “Sleep, angel. I’ve got you.”

  I whisper, “I don’t want to go back there.”

  “You won’t. Tomorrow is a new day, Lo. Tomorrow, your life begins.”

  I fall asleep in his arms. I feel safe, I feel loved, and for the first time in forever, I feel comfortable. I feel comfortable because of him.

  —

  I wake to hands squeezing my ass and a low chuckle. “Get up, Lo; it’s noon.”

  “I’m starving,” I say immediately.

  “Go hop in the shower. I’m gonna take you on a breakfast date.”

  I roll over and look at him. “A date?”

  “Yeah, angel. It’s the least I can do after deflowering you last night.” He winks. “Now go.”

  I can’t help smiling. “Well, okay, then.”

  When I’m done with my shower, I am excited about the idea of a date. Pretending he is my first is wrong, but for some reason, it makes me happy. Deliriously happy.

  I have no clothes. I laugh at myself when I open the door to come out. Then I freeze when I hear Jason arguing with a man.

  “I ended it with Missy days ago, Dad,” Jason snaps.

  “She threatened to go to the media about the son of the mayor’s abusive behaviors if I didn’t buy her a plane ticket and give her money to get back to her family in Massachusetts.”

  “Our relationship ended because she is crazy as fuck. She pushed me. I couldn’t do it anymore,” Jason growls. “It was toxic.”

  “I guess you know how to push everyone’s fucking buttons, don’t you, son?”

  Jason’s methodical laugh is low and angry. “If that’s what you want to tell yourself, fine. But a seven-year-old boy who spilled some fucking milk certainly shouldn’t be considered a button pusher, old man.”

  “You never listened,” he spits at Jason.

  “Tell yourself whatever the fuck you need to. Over the years, I took your beatings for doing fucking nothing. Make sure you know, if you ever raise a finger to me again, I will snap your fucking neck.”

  “Your threats don’t scare me, son.”

  “Good, ’cause I’m not threatening. That’s a fucking promise. Now get out.”

  “I paid for your whore’s silence and to get home. I won’t do it again. Whoever the whore in the bathroom is better never find out who you are, or so help me God—”

  “Don’t talk about her like that. Don’t ever talk about her like that. She’s no fucking whore.”

  “Someone from work, Jason?” he snaps. “Not smart.”

  “No, her name is Lorraine Bosch. Does that ring a bell? You know the name.”

  There is poignant silence. “Jason, what the hell are you thinking? The girl is messed up. Do you have any idea—”

  “She’s been through hell, but so have I, haven’t I, Dad? Don’t you worry about me or about her; both of us are more fucking normal than you.”

  I fall back against the wall and cover my mouth. Ja
son is the mayor’s son. Oh my God, he is Jason Stanley.

  Chapter 14

  Jason

  Fuck! Missy and her bullshit brought my dad here.

  His eyes told me all I need to know about his past with Lorraine’s family. He knows something, which means her following the people she is following is dangerous. Her being involved in anything surrounding my father does not sit well with me. I have work to do.

  First, I have to make sure Missy is on a plane and gone for good. Calling the front desk to my building, I am informed of her departure and the key left behind for me. She also asked to be removed from the complex owner association papers, and as long as I sign off on it, then it’s a done deal. Well, as much as I want to bitch at her for blackmailing my father into a plane ticket, I am just happy to have her gone. She needs a fresh start, and I need to breathe without worrying about her showing up somewhere to shoot me or stab me.

  After looking around at my meager belongings thrown around the hotel, I gather them up and into my bag. Once that’s done, I look at the bathroom door and can’t help wondering what is taking Lo so long.

  I go to the door and listen.

  Silence.

  I knock. “Lo, you okay in there?”

  “Yeah,” she says, her voice sounding weak. “I, um…” She pauses. “I heard voices. I didn’t know if your company left.”

  Shit, she heard my father here. Does she know who he is? Does she know something he’s hiding? Was he involved in her family’s murder? It wouldn’t surprise me. The thought alone has me needing to break something, though.

  I step back as she makes her way out of the bathroom and over to the bed. Every time I tell myself I am walking away, I get drawn back in. With everything between us, I can’t stop myself from wanting her, from feeling things for her I’ve never felt before. She wrings her hands together nervously, wearing one of my T-shirts and boxers, all of it swallowing her completely. She avoids eye contact, which bothers me, too. One thing I have always done is face things head-on. This is no different.

  “Do you know my father?” I ask, wondering if I really want to know the answer.

  She bites her bottom lip and nods, looking at me with her blue eyes sparkling with emotions. “I know you.”

  I point to myself. “Me?”

  “We were at your house. It was a campaign dinner or something. Anyway, just me and my dad made it. My sister was sick, so my mom stayed home with her. My dad worked for your dad. You were eight, maybe nine. I knocked over a plate of food. I was afraid I would get in trouble, so I didn’t tell anyone. I cleaned it up, but your father saw the white carpet stained with salsa from my chips and dip.” She doesn’t move her eyes from mine. “Your father saw you with a plate of salsa and grabbed you harshly. I followed when he took you into a side office on the first floor of your house.”

  I wish I could remember which event specifically she was referring to. I don’t. This same scenario played out on more than one occasion. Anytime things didn’t go perfectly or not enough money was raised or my father was simply mad at the world, I paid the price. In the end, one event blurred into the next, and as much as I tried to hide out to avoid them, I wasn’t successful. What she saw happened so many times.

  She swallows then brings her hand up to stroke my cheek. “He…” She pauses, and I see the pity in her eyes.

  I tense and step away. Everything in me goes tight. My heart seems to stop beating. I never want to see that look in those heavenly blue eyes. I never want her to have any sadness or negative emotions associated with thoughts of me. If there is one thing I never want to see in her eyes, it’s pity.

  Pity for me.

  “Don’t finish the fucking sentence. I know what happened and whatever you remember is probably mild compared to what I endured. It was a long fucking time ago. It’s done. He’s not a part of my life except when it’s expected or situations like today where he couldn’t reach me and had to relay information.” I pause, watching her rapidly blink, processing what I just said. I don’t let up and give her time to think on my childhood. It’s over. I have moved on, and she needs to let it go, too. “Look, my place is free. I’ll take you there until we can sort out yours,” I say roughly, needing to breathe.

  I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me, least of all her. She has no idea what growing up like that has done to me. She witnessed one time. She saw a little boy who had no choice other than to take on the problems of a grown man’s inability to control himself. She doesn’t know that it started when I was so young I don’t remember a time he didn’t hit me.

  She doesn’t know how many times my mother begged me to be a better boy so I wouldn’t keep upsetting him. Never once did my mother fight for me. No, all the fight had to stay inside of me, never to be let out.

  The thing is, as much as I hate my father, as much as I never want to be anything like him, it happened despite my best intentions. The same little boy grew into a man much like the one who just left here.

  No, Lorraine Bosch need not pity me.

  She should fear me.

  There is a moment of hesitation before she moves to put her shoes on so we can leave. After I grab the rest of my stuff and toss it haphazardly in the bag, we head out. My father’s unexpected arrival killed any thoughts of breakfast. I can’t stand that she pities me and I wonder, yet again, if I should walk away.

  The ride to my condo is quiet. I need it to be that way. I don’t know what to say to her, and I’m sure she has no clue what to say to me.

  I’m not a little boy anymore, and she can’t save me even if she thinks she somehow can.

  Getting out, I walk toward the front door as she follows. There is no need to disillusion her to think I’m the kind of man to open doors or cover her with my jacket because she’s cold. Sure, my instincts pull at me to do these things, but she doesn’t need to find good in me. Knowing what I came from, she should know what I’m destined to become. I tried to fight inside to make the change; that didn’t happen. In fact, with Missy, I sometimes think I was worse.

  At the doorway, I stop her in front of the security man. “Max, this is Lo.” He extends his hand, and she takes it. “She’s free to come and go in my place.”

  Seeing her hand in his, I fight back the rage inside me that another man is touching her. I shake my head, trying to brush off the thoughts of crushing the man who matches my size and skill set just for being polite. I have never been this jealous of a touch before. Even Tatiana and Caldwell didn’t make my blood boil to this extreme.

  Stepping away, I guide her to the elevator and to my condo.

  “Security is top-notch. We didn’t always have a doorman, but now there is someone here twenty-four hours. There are four men who do a rotation. As long as you are here, I promise, Lo, you are safe.”

  I shouldn’t tell her this. I shouldn’t give her this false sense of security. She is safe here—from everyone but me.

  Entering the front door, I check the alarm. No surprise there; Missy didn’t set it.

  I look at Lo. “Give me a four-digit number you won’t forget.”

  Her response is immediate. “Zero, four, twenty.” It makes me angry.

  “No,” I say, clipped. “I know that is the day all was lost for you, but you cannot carry those ghosts here.”

  “Zero one, two, eight.”

  I arch an eyebrow at her. “Meaning?”

  “The day I met you,” she whispers.

  “Okay,” I say, resetting the code for the alarm. I then walk her through the steps to arming and disarming the alarm before I take her to my bedroom.

  I walk in and can only shake my head at the mess Missy has left behind. My bed is slashed, the sheets have paint poured on them, and my lamps are busted. I guide Lorraine back out.

  “I’ll get a new bed delivered today. My ex and I had this place together. She didn’t take the breakup too well.”

  “I don’t have to stay here. I have a house.”

  “No, this is a fres
h start. You’re letting go of all that. You can stay here as long as you want, and I can stay at the hotel if you don’t want me here.” I look at her, knowing as much as I stand here and say the words, I can’t make myself stay away.

  I feel like we need some space, and she needs to know she’s safe. There is a part deep inside me that doesn’t want to give her an inch of space. There is this need in me to be all over her, in her, and never let her go. I fight inside not to consume her. She needs to work out her past and I need to find a way to overcome mine. One part of me screams we are no good for each other. We are destined for disaster. The other part of me screams she’s a heaven-sent angel. We are destined to save each other. The more I try to tell myself to walk away, the more her eyes pull me right back in.

  “I’ll go handle getting a new bed, and then I need to hit up the gym just to check in. Make yourself at home.”

  “I’ll just call a cab to get my car.”

  I can’t let her go.

  “Lo, I’ll get your car. You better be here when I get back. If not, I’ll find you, and when I do, I’ll pink that ass for my effort.”

  Her mouth drops open. “You wouldn’t!”

  I smirk. “Oh, baby, I would, so get comfortable. You have the alarm. Let me get you a new bed, and I’ll pick up a few things at your place for you.” I pause, not believing I’m going to do this. “I’ll also pick up the cats, their food, and their litter boxes.”

  At the thought of her pets, she smiles softly and seems to settle. “Don’t forget the cat condo. Boots loves to nap in it, and Socks uses it for a scratching post.” She pauses as if to think, “If I’m going to be here for a while then I’ll need scrubs for work.”

  Mentally, I try to make a list of everything I need as I grab my gym stuff and give the place a once-over for more damage from Missy. In the kitchen, I find everything is gone. Every plate, every utensil, every pot and pan. Looks like my ex wanted to hold on to the non-fine china. I don’t give a shit. The woman needs to stay away and if cleaning out the kitchen does that for her then so be it. Looks like I need to stop at a store for some new dinnerware.