Breakaway: A New Adult Anthology

by Jay McLean

  Trevor slowly turns around. Visibly surprised, Liam immediately lifts his hand off Trevor and takes a step back.

  “Rankin?” Liam blanches.

  “Hi, Liam,” Trevor’s voice is low, controlled, but not chummy. Not in the least.

  “I--I…” Liam stammers. For once the jerk is at a loss for words.

  I swallow hard. They know each other. And Liam is intimidated by him. I didn’t think Liam could be intimidated by anyone.

  Trevor grasps my hip and draws me to his side. “Did you need something?” he pointedly asks my would-be tormentor.

  Liam takes another step back. He shakes his head vigorously. “No. Not at all.”

  Trevor looks down at me. “I think Brooke needs something, though.”

  “What?’ the sharpness returns to Liam’s voice.

  “An apology.”

  Liam winces. He darts a look at me. His teeth press the color from his lips.

  “Let’s hear it,” Rickie pipes up.

  “Rickie,” Trevor softly admonishes, but his eyes remain on Liam and narrow to slits. “She’s waiting.”

  When Liam stiffly turns his body toward me, all expression has left his face and his eyes look through me. “I am sorry, Brooke.”

  “Liar,” I whisper and hide my face in Trevor’s chest.

  *****

  “His father works for yours?” I ask, vaguely surprised by the sadness in my voice. Seeing Liam afraid, somehow smaller, has affected me in a way I don’t understand. I’ve lost my energy, my excitement over spring break. I just want to go home.

  “Yeah.” Trevor punches a button and the elevator slides shut. I watch the floor numbers blink on and off, on and off. We pass my floor. “They were college buddies. Now, not so much.”

  The numbers blink as the elevator climbs higher. At the top floor, it stops and opens. We step out into a hallway that owns only two doors. Trevor takes out his card and waves it over the door lock. It springs open.

  He lets me pass into the room first. Then he places his keycard into the slot in the wall. The lights flicker on.

  Calling it a room is an understatement. His suite takes up half the floor. I’m holding my breath as my eyes take in the sunken living room area, the chandelier above the dining area, the hearth and faux animal skins. A baby grand is to the left of an open kitchen. Trevor’s warm hand presses the small of my back. I let him lead me farther into the penthouse.

  “I’m sharing this with two of my housemates,” he tells me, leading me over to the kitchen. The kitchen lights flicker on as we near. Copper pots gleam above us. I set my purse on the black granite countertop.

  “Hungry?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  Trevor pulls from the fridge a bowl of strawberries and hands them to me. “Your favorite.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I’ve seen you at east cafeteria.” He avoids my eyes by searching the fridge’s shelves. “I know a lot about you.”

  “It’s nice to be noticed, I guess.”

  “I know you volunteer at the pediatric ward. You like to rock the babies.”

  I’m speechless. Even Liam never knew that. Trevor’s words touch me so deeply I feel tears coming, embarrassing tears, until he reaches for the whipped cream. He finally looks at me and a devilish gleam enters his eyes. He wraps an arm around my waist and leans in. He kisses my neck. Such a soft touch, yet an explosion of sensations wash over my body.

  He passes the whipped cream to me and then lifts me up in his arms. I giggle, balancing the bowl and cream can as he walks briskly to his room and kicks the door open. Our clothes fall every which way, on the floor, over the table and chairs.

  I stand naked before him. With hungry eyes I watch him pull down his underwear and kick it to the side. His impressive cock juts out toward me in promise. He steps into my space, his cock brushing my stomach as he lower his lips to my collarbone. He makes a trail of kisses down to my navel.

  With firm hands on my thighs he pushes me back until I sit upon the bed. “Lean back,” he says huskily.

  With a shaky sigh I lean back on the bed and look at the ceiling. It’s been forever since I’ve experienced something so intimate. I’m nervous. But by the time his lips make their way to my pussy, my fingers are already entangled in his hair as I beg him to find me. He finds my clit without hesitation. I writhed as he licks and laps at my folds. His mouth fastens on my nub, sucking softly, teasingly, and slowly increasing the pressure. His finger rubs my insides coaxingly. It’s an incredible feeling I haven’t known before and I cry out as another finger joins the first. He strokes inside me as his mouth masterfully sucks my clit.

  “Oh,” I moan, then gasp. “Trevor.”

  He lifts his head. “Too hard?”

  “No,” I shake my head. I hear music start up outside the room. Voices lift and doors open and shut.

  “Those are my roommates,” he explains reassuringly. “They’ll probably party late.”

  “It’s not that,” I whisper. “I--I’m close.”

  He grins. “Good.”

  “But I want you inside me.”

  “I’ll be there in a second. I promise.” He rests his chin on my mound. His fingers continue to stroke inside of me. His eyes glitter as I writhe. He watches my face, drinking in my sexual responses.

  “I want you inside me when I come,” I press.

  “I will be,” he murmurs. “The next one.”

  This time, he fastens on my clit with added zeal and I gasp, groaning, my head falling against the bed cushions. He takes me to climax fast. I can’t hold back. I scream as a feeling I have never experienced with such intensity ravages my body. I scream again. I feel like I am ripping apart, that tiny part of me exploding, never to be the same.

  Trevor is above me, kissing my damp brow. The music has stopped beyond our door. I hold my breath as he slides into me. His breath shakes out of him. “See?” he whispers.

  “Yes,” I moan. I understand. He’s made me taut from pleasure. I am tight, wrapped around him so snuggly I can feel every inch of him--better than I have ever felt anything inside me. I scream again as he thrusts completely into me. Loud laughter bounces against the living room ceiling and floats across to us.

  The music starts again. I giggle and Trevor grins, a dimple appearing on each cheek. He takes me on the best ride ever. He fucks me deep and slow. Each moment is one of pleasure. God. No wonder people love sex so much. This is incredible. I tell him that.

  He kisses my forehead then claims my mouth. Just as he promised, I come again. He holds me close and I buck up against him, wrapping my legs around his waist as he buries himself inside me and shudders. I feel him jut and pulse. I kiss his neck and murmur crazy silly things to him, how he is the best, how I never knew it could be so good. He nestles his nose between my breasts and plays with my nipples until his satiated cock slides out of me.

  Once the party gets really loud, I peek out the door. Everyone is in either a swimsuit or underwear. I realize I have no bra.

  Trevor finds me a white t-shirt and pulls it over my head and tugs my arms through. He chuckles and kisses my nose. I wriggle back into my thong. He goes out in his boxer briefs.

  We suffer the cheers and laughter, the nudges and knowing winks. The party is wild and I’m loving every second of it. Trevor is cray cray adorbs. He doesn’t leave my side.

  Rickie and Dex show up twenty minutes later. I give her the biggest hug and kiss I would ever give another girl, tongue and all. I know I am the luckiest friend ever.

  Spring break is just beginning, but I feel a freedom that will carry me for a very long time. Hopefully into Trevor’s sexy arms again and again. After all, we still have to test that whip cream.

  *****

  FARRAH FARSIDE

  Is a hot new adult author who writes under several pen names.

  www.facebook.com/FarrahFarside

  NICOLE BLANCHARD

  Unbreakable

  Though the image of my fir
st love, Jameson Montgomery had forever been burned into my memory, I was nevertheless surprised when I came face to face with him again. Either from the blurring of time or the burn of Florida sun, recalling our high school romance was always a bit muddled around the edges. Like old photos or damaged film. Sun bleached and windswept, a little smudged with the gritty sand from river banks and hazy from greasy layers of coconut scented sunscreen. A bit too loud. A touch too sweet. Young love that burns as bright and is as fleeting as the blaze of a shooting star.

  The day he barged back into my life I was life-guarding at the local well-to-do resort, which would have been ironic had it not been the sweetest job I'd ever had. The likes of me rarely frequented establishments with dress codes more strict than "no shoes, no shirt, no service." Regardless, it was money and as a starving college student and the daughter of two negligent, raging alcoholics, I was always in need of some more green...or any green, really. Plus, it was free access to an amazing pool that I practically had all to myself for the entire season. Since I wanted to be a marine biologist, being in or near water at all times was heaven.

  The resort itself was even a joke because who in their right minds needed some fancy spa, of all things, in the middle of Bumfuck, Florida? It wasn't like we were in Miami or Orlando with geriatrics left and right that needed golfing for something to do in the yawning expanse of their retirement. The only people who ever came were the occasional soccer moms foisting their child off for me to watch while they rotated themselves like chicken on a rotisserie for hours on end. Which suited me just fine because most of the little snot-nosed tyrants could entertain themselves with a few floaties and a water gun.

  Aside from that it was just me, a huge pool, and whatever rag-tag novel I could filch from the community bookshelf from the library. The kind that you could swap for free, as I technically didn't have a home address to apply for a library card, just a couch at wherever we'd landed for a stretch of time. All in all, the first few weeks of freedom and sunshine were absolute bliss.

  I may have been alone and lonely, which anyone who has been either would know that they are two different things, and I may have been almost homeless and destined to repeat the cycle from which I'd been born, but for that short time I found a slice of happiness. Just me, the lap of water against the sides of the deserted pool and the pounding of relentless sun. I lost myself in the books, the pulse of water around my limbs. You could psychoanalyze me or some shit and say that I was attempting to run away from my rotten home life, but whatever it was it was mine and I was determined to suck the marrow out of it for as long as it lasted.

  It was a Thursday. I was dreading Friday, payday, which also meant an influx of the cheap dollar bottles my father preferred and a resurgence of the meanness that came with it. I'd planned to spend all day lounging at the pool, bumming a kickass lunch off of the country club cook, and diving into another bodice ripper—one of my guilty pleasures—not that I would readily admit that to anyone.

  I’d learned that mothers rarely brought their brats on Thursday and most of the college kids, including the few friends I'd made, were already planning the weekend so they forgot about the pool and instead pursued other avenues of interest. As it was mid-March, even they were gone to Panama City or Mexico Beach to drown themselves in cheap beer and regrets for Spring Break. The likes of which reminded me too much of my father for me to partake.

  It was later in the day, after the fat of the sun had crested the sky and toasted my honeyed skin to tautness that I knew meant another sunburn, but I didn't care. I relished the sting of it as I dove into the pool again and again. The skin around my nose and eyes was already tender, probably pink, and my shoulders were flaking from the constant exposure to the harsh light.

  I imagined as I cut through the crystal clear water that I was as swift as a dolphin, as weightless and carefree. Perhaps that's part of what made the club as much of an escape as it was. I'd never felt as respected or as full of possibilities as I did when I was there. People would come and watch me with something akin to admiration—which wasn't a feeling that I was used to, being a Delaney in Jefferson County. Until they learned my name, I was someone that people looked to for guidance and safety and it was a power that I'd come to relish. To them, as a lifeguard, I wasn't trash that they had to look down their nose at. I was still lesser, blue-collar, but I was at least someone of power. I got a taste of that and I was loath to give it up. It would be an eternity before I'd finish graduate school and start feeling like a real adult—whatever that was.

  My arms and legs powered through strokes as I lapped the length of the pool. It was an oversized kidney shape and one of the games I liked to play was diving underwater and holding my breath from one side to another. It was on one such round as this that I kicked through the final few feet, the lack of oxygen pressing against my chest and making it burn. I stretched out an arm to touch the wall and gripped the lip of the pool to pull me to the surface.

  I opened my eyes and almost choked on my surprise and a mouthful of pool water when I came face to face with the man that broke my heart four years prior.

  He held out an arm to pull me up and I took it. My first thought was that he looked too good. No one whose mere memory causes such pain should be allowed to look like they just walked off of the runway. Strong, muscular arms flexed as he pulled me from the water. His military dog tags winked in the sunlight. I couldn't see behind the reflection of his sunglasses, but I could feel his eyes on me. He'd always had a way of looking at me that made me feel like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

  The constant exercise and sun had done my previously undefined body good and I was a bit too brash and unrefined to be shy, so I didn't immediately run for a towel. I wasn't a bombshell, but I knew I had a great body. Slim where it was supposed to be and curves in all the right places. The other lifeguards had expensive one pieces that were probably regulation and cost a mint, whereas my two piece was anything but designer and came from Wal-Mart at half off. They'd hired me last minute and gave me a pass on the uniform. Besides, I was honest enough with myself to admit that I hoped he looked and realized what he'd been missing.

  I wiped a hand across my face to catch the errant drops of water. "Jameson. What are you doing here?"

  "'Lo, Rue." His voice was a familiar mixture of mixture of gravel and silk. The words tumbled from full, luscious lips. I'd wager that at least half of my high school career had been spent attached to them. I moistened my own at the sudden urge to see if they still tasted the same. "I didn't know that you were working on the island."

  "Of course you wouldn't," I said, through thinly veiled derision. "It's been a long time."

  He looked away and I noticed that behind him was a little boy, about two with a mop of curly brown ringlets. He was sucking a thumb and had red-rimmed eyes that looked both lost and sad, which I could relate to now more than ever.

  "That's Sam, my son."

  Suddenly all of the air was sucked from my lungs. "Your son?"

  Jameson shoved his sunglasses onto his head and motioned for Sam to join him. "Yeah. I have some things to take care of today and my grandpa mentioned that you could keep an eye on him for a few hours?"

  Stunned, I blurted, "Yes, of course." Then immediately wanted to smack a hand on my forehead.

  He nodded and a torrent of emotion surged through me. Hurt, regret, disillusionment, anger. Four years ago Jameson Montgomery had meant everything to me. Hell, I'd planned on running away with him after high school right up until the day he split with only a terse conversation for an explanation.

  Unable to handle the maelstrom of my own reaction, I focused instead on Sam. I held out a hand to him and offered a smile. "Hi, Sam. Want to swim with me? I have toys." I led him to the stairs of the shallow end. "I can watch him for a few hours, but we close at six and have to leave by then, so please try not to be late."

  While Sam splashed in the pool his excited laughter colored the dying summer afternoon. If only w
e could stay that innocent and easily distracted. I grabbed my sunglasses and secondhand phone where I scrolled through a text from my best friend Lettie.

  I carefully ignored the watchful eyes of his father. His father. Though he was practically the definition of eye-candy, I had neither the time nor inclination to tangle with the opposite sex, most especially Jameson. The toxic relationship I steeped in at home was more than enough drama for me and dredging up old hurts was too much to handle. The fact that he now had a kid was practically incomprehensible. When he left a few minutes later the tightness in my stomach released and I was able to go back to a state of semi-relaxation as I watched Sam splash and shriek in the water.

  *

  It was much later as the sun was kissing the trees and preparing to dip behind them to slumber that I realized Jameson was going to be late. I'd shocked myself by actually playing with the little guy and had lost track of time. Unlike most of the spoiled monsters who liked to terrorize me, he was kind of shy and a little sweet. The fact that he was a miniature version of Jameson probably worked in his favor. That kind of genetics shouldn't be allowed. We'd retreated from the pool when thunder threatened and lighting arced in the distance.

  When I finagled us both a plate of hot chicken fingers and greasy french fries, he acted like it was the food of the gods. I doubted anything could wipe the resulting smile from his face. Was there anything quite as pure or innocent as childhood? I wondered as he chowed down how long it would be before that innocence was destroyed by the carelessness of the intentionally hurtful people he was bound to cross in his short little life.

  I bundled up my damp towel and shoved it in my secondhand beach tote that was barely held together by tattered seams. Sam was cozy on one of the loungers on the terrace mangling some leftover toys and staging a siege on his pretend city. I checked my two-year-old flip phone and scowled at the time, then cursed as it emitted a horrible noise and died. It was nearing seven and my father was probably already at home flipping his shit. Great. Just great.