Shattered

by Ava Conway

  “I don’t know.”

  He straightened and began to pace in front of my desk, getting more and more animated by the second. “Doctors are so quick to dump people into categories with labels like ‘Can do this,’ ‘Can’t do that.’ ” Flynn walked around the desk, turned my office chair to face him and placed his hands on the armrests. “But here’s the thing that they don’t realize. Words are permanent. People aren’t.”

  “They aren’t?” I asked.

  “No.” Flynn’s features softened as he brushed a stray hair from my face. Tingles of awareness raced over my skin, heating my core and making me feel light-headed.

  “People, unlike words in files, never stay the same,” he said as he trailed his fingers along the side of my face. “They’re constantly changing and evolving. They’re learning and growing.” He hooked his finger under my chin and held my gaze. “You can’t put a label on that.”

  I stared at him for a long moment as I processed his words. I had never thought about those things, mostly because Steve was so insistent that he and Lacey have their own children. He had said that adoption wasn’t the same thing. He wanted his own flesh and blood. I had just assumed that all men were the same, but maybe not.

  “Would you consider adoption?” I whispered. “Or surrogacy?”

  The intensity in his eyes wavered. He straightened away from me and frowned. “My life is far too fucked up to think about family.”

  “Perhaps now, but things could change. In the future—”

  “No.” He turned his back to me and began to retreat.

  “Why? I saw you with your nephew, and—”

  He pivoted on his heel and pinned me to the chair with his hard stare. “Just no, okay? Some things change, but others don’t. I’m no good, Mia. I don’t deserve to be a father.”

  I stood and closed the distance between us, keeping my gaze locked on his. “Says who?”

  He searched my face for a moment before he spoke. “You tell me. You’re the one who read my file.”

  I shook my head. “It’s just words, Flynn.” I placed my hand over his chest. “I don’t believe what it says about Victoria. You never hurt her.” I shifted my gaze down to my splayed fingers. “And I saw you with your nephews. You deserve happiness, Flynn. I think you’d make a great father.”

  He snorted. “You’re the only one who thinks that.”

  “Am I?” I dragged my gaze up to meet his. “What about your coach? He thought enough of you to get you help, so he must think you can change.”

  Flynn stiffened as pain flashed through his features.

  “She was the one flirting with me,” he whispered as he covered my hand on his chest. “I tried to push Victoria away, but she wasn’t acting like herself.” He frowned and squeezed my hand. “I learned later that the seductress was one of her many personalities.” He closed his eyes. “By the time others arrived, she had changed into Violet—the little girl. She started screaming that I was trying to rape her.”

  “I’m so sorry, Flynn.” I had only read about dissociative identity disorder in textbooks. To be close to someone who changed personalities from one moment to the next must have been hard.

  Knowing Victoria’s true illness made everything much more clear. Flynn couldn’t have raped her, and Johnson had probably done nothing as well. Both men had been hurt by one of Victoria’s personalities.

  “Did Dr. Polanski believe her?” I asked.

  “No, but as a precaution, I was placed under strict supervision for a while. Rumors started to spread through the staff. Women started avoiding me.” He stroked my fingers as he spoke. I noticed he was trembling.

  “I was treated as a rapist, even though I did nothing wrong,” he said.

  “But you aren’t treated that way anymore.”

  “No, but sometimes . . .”

  “Sometimes, what?” I asked when he didn’t continue.

  “Sometimes I think at least part of that label stuck.”

  “You said yourself that labels don’t define people.”

  He let out a long breath. “Sometimes, when you hear something often enough, you start to believe it.”

  I shook my head. “I refuse to believe that.” I inched closer. “You’re a good man, Flynn. You can rise above what others think and change their minds.”

  He considered me for a long moment before responding. “Have I changed your mind?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Am I still just another patient, something you want to fix, or am I something more?”

  I jerked my gaze away from his questioning stare and focused on our joined hands. He rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand, sending tingles of desire racing through my body.

  I thought about everything we had been through, of what Dr. Polanski had said, and what I had read in his file. I remembered how he had helped me find my footing within the hospital, and how he had managed to charm both the staff and other patients.

  Taking a deep breath, I dragged my gaze up to meet his. When I spoke, I tried to fill my voice with all the sincerity I felt.

  “You were never just a file to me, Flynn. From the first moment I saw you, I knew that you were something special.”

  He cupped my cheek and ran his thumb across my skin. “I knew you were pretty special, too.”

  My breath hitched as he leaned forward and captured my lips with his own.

  FIFTEEN

  THE KISS was gentle and so full of emotion. Just feeling his lips against mine brought tears to my eyes. I clung to his shirt, tugging him closer. I wanted to show him that he wasn’t alone. He could turn things around if he wanted to.

  As his tongue slid against mine, I realized that I was no longer alone, either. There was so much pressure to be the strong and stable daughter, but now Flynn was taking that pressure away. Like walls tumbling down, he lowered my defenses with his lips, stripping the perfect image I showed the world and uncovering the real person underneath.

  This is real. Flynn’s words from the tree floated through my mind as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. I immediately responded, stroking my tongue against his own. He tasted sweet, like a decadent cake that melts in your mouth. I groaned as he tightened his arms and pulled me against his erection. Heat swam through my veins, making me dizzy. I slid my arms up around his neck and pressed my hips closer.

  A sense of urgency rose from somewhere deep inside me. I couldn’t get enough of this man, this fighter who felt like he had to face the world alone. I wanted to show him that he was worthy of good things: love, happiness, family. I was struck by how similar we were and how easily we could exchange places. It could be me living inside the walls of Newton Heights instead of him. We both had issues we needed to deal with, but no longer did we have to deal with them alone. With Flynn, I no longer felt like I had to pretend that I had it together. I didn’t have to be in control.

  Flynn tried to pull away, but I held on tighter. I didn’t want to let him go. Stopping would mean I had to face reality, and I wasn’t quite ready to do that just yet.

  He reached up and slid his fingers around my wrists, untangling them from his hair. With a sigh, I let him step back from my embrace. I watched with despair as the hunger in his eyes wavered.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “For what?”

  He averted his gaze. “I’m a patient here and you’re . . .”

  His words died on his lips, but I knew what he was trying to say. I wasn’t a patient. I had a life outside of these walls, a life that could be shattered if people found out about what we just did. I knew what he was thinking, because ever since we first met I had been thinking the same thing.

  We come from different worlds.

  This could only end in disaster.

  It felt as if my entire life hinged on this moment. Flynn was right. God help me, he was right. Kissing patients wasn’t something Dr. Polanski was going to approve of. If we continued this to its natural conclusion, things would only get mes
sier. If we were discovered, it could ruin everything I had worked so hard to gain.

  I glanced over at my computer monitor, to the place where Freckles used to sit. I realized that I no longer wanted a stuffed bunny for comfort. I wanted strong arms and a hard body. I wanted to hold and be held and feel connected again.

  “I should go.” Flynn moved toward the door, but I placed my hand on his chest, stopping him. He looked at me with raised brows as I slipped my hand away from his chest and locked my office door.

  “Mia . . .” He stepped back as I refocused on his ruggedly handsome features and thought about all the times he had tried to get into my head, not to analyze or judge me, but so he could help. Flynn cared about me. The real me, not the person I showed the world.

  I realized that I cared about him, too.

  “I don’t want you to go,” I said as I stepped forward and raised myself on my toes. “I need you, Flynn.” After a brief hesitation, I ran my fingers through his hair. “I think you need me, too.”

  I pressed my lips against his. It was a tentative kiss, mostly because I wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to react. When he slid his arms around me and started kissing me back, something inside of me broke, and passion rose up through my body like a cresting wave.

  Flynn held me close as he explored my mouth, tasting and claiming everything he touched. I dragged my fingers through his rough hair, and then over his muscular shoulders and back. He felt so firm, so solid. I wanted to know what all of that power felt like between my legs.

  I tilted my head, deepening the kiss. Never before had I felt so brazen. The old Mia slammed back into my consciousness with a vengeance. The need to feel connected and loved overwhelmed me.

  With a groan, Flynn shifted our bodies, easing me back until the edge of the desk bumped into my ass. He reached behind me and swiped his arm across the surface, sending all of the files and paperwork to the floor.

  Words, I thought. Just words. None of it was real, but filtered through the perception of the writer. This was real. Flynn was real.

  I knew in my heart that he had never hurt Victoria. He was protecting her as he protected everyone else in his life. Just like he wanted to protect me.

  Flynn had survived because he was a fighter, and it was those fighter instincts engaging now. He leaned me back onto the desk and began to undress me, his fingers flying over the buttons of my uniform with surprising nimbleness.

  I clawed at his shirt, trying to pull it over his head. Only when my jacket was fully open did he ease back from the kiss enough to allow me to pull his T-shirt over his head.

  Clothes dropped to the floor one by one. I gasped as his rough hands caressed my skin, touching first my waist, then my chest. I spread my legs in offering and he quickly moved between them, pressing his thick erection between my thighs. I curled my legs around his waist as he palmed my breast with his rough hand, then took my nipple into his mouth.

  Pleasure shot straight through my core. I groaned and closed my eyes. It had been a long time since I had been touched by a man, and the skin-on-skin contact sent my desire into overdrive. I leaned back on the desk and groaned as he flicked and sucked on my pebbled nipple.

  “God, Flynn.” I curled my fingers into the desk and tightened my legs around his waist. “That’s so good.” Pleasure spiraled around my muscles, tightening them with need.

  He moved to the other breast, repeating the same delicious torture. I slid my fingers from the desk to his hair and held him close to my skin. Raising my head, I watched him as he kissed a long trail down my chest and abs.

  “Flynn . . .” Realizing his intentions, I started to move away. This was far more intimate than I had intended. “I can’t.”

  “Please, Mia,” he said as he grabbed my wrist. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” He glanced down between my legs. “Indulge me.”

  I hesitated, then spread my thighs apart, allowing him to crouch down until he was at eye level with my torso. Anticipation rippled over my skin as I watched his head bob down between my legs.

  “Come to the edge,” he commanded. Before I could move, he hooked his hands under my knees and tugged, dragging me to the end of the desk. I watched in fascination as he hooked both legs over his shoulders and leaned forward.

  “Oh, God.” I dropped my head back and closed my eyes as Flynn’s hot tongue slid over my sensitive skin. I had heard of other women having oral sex before but had never experienced it myself. My boyfriends were much too self-centered to try anything like that.

  Flynn repeated his movements, and I groaned as another surge of pleasure shot through my body. On the third rotation, he slid his finger into my center, stretching my muscles. Joy wrapped around me as I lifted my legs off his shoulders and spread them wider, granting him better access.

  He worked methodically, using different combinations of tongue, teeth, and fingers until he had me panting and begging for more. He exchanged one finger for two, and angled them so they touched an extrasensitive spot deep inside my core.

  I hooked my heels into the sides of the desk and pushed my hips up and closer to his eager mouth.

  “Yes.” I fisted my hands as another round of pleasure blasted through my body.

  Flynn groaned and whispered my name as he worked, constantly pushing my desire higher and higher. The air in the room heated, and it seemed as if time stood still. The world around us faded away until there was only us and this moment, and the pleasure we shared.

  “Come for me, Mia.” His warm breath rushed against my sensitive skin as he whispered.

  I could feel my orgasm sitting there, just out of reach. I began to stretch, my muscles winding tighter, my breath becoming faster. I closed my eyes and focused on the moment, letting the final threads of the world slip away.

  Flynn scraped his teeth across my clit. I cried out as a spark of pain jolted me off the table. The movement allowed his fingers to move deeper and press harder against that sensitive spot in my core.

  The result was pure magic. My orgasm slammed into me, temporarily blinding me to everything but pleasure. It had been a long time since I had felt anything so good. I whispered Flynn’s name as my limbs went boneless. I turned my head to the side and groaned as my world spun out of control.

  “Mia.”

  I looked up at him through my euphoric haze. He had stood and was fumbling around for something in his discarded jeans.

  “What are you doing?”

  He pulled something out and held it up for me to see. “Nesto insisted I carry one. I thought he was insane, but . . .” He pressed his lips together and ripped open the package.

  “You don’t need that. I’m clean.”

  “You trust me that much?”

  I nodded, still feeling the aftereffects of my orgasm.

  He hesitated, then slid the condom over his shaft. “You could get pregnant.”

  The thought of having Flynn’s baby caused my heart to ache. “I can’t.” When he flashed me a questioning look, I pointed to my lower abdomen. “I’m damaged, remember?”

  “You still got pregnant. Next time you might carry to term.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Humor me.”

  I started to protest once more, but then he put his erection at my opening, and all rational thought ceased.

  Flynn eased the tip of his cock inside my body, then leaned forward and pressed his elbows on the desk beside my head.

  “I’ve been dreaming of this moment ever since I first saw you in that ridiculous, coffee-stained skirt.” I started to laugh, but then he kissed me, and my thoughts scattered as desire rose through my body once more.

  He tried to ease inside me gently, but I didn’t want gentle. I hooked my legs around his hips and guided him until he was fully seated and there was nothing separating us.

  Flynn broke the kiss on a gasp. “God, Mia.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No!” he almost shouted. “You’re just so tight. It’s amazi
ng.”

  He kissed me again as he started to move. Sweet friction rushed through my center, creating a sense of urgency. I wanted more, so much more. I ran my hands all over his body, urging him faster. Short, quick thrusts became long, hard ones. Before long I pulled away from the kiss, needing air.

  “More,” I said as he straightened and lengthened his thrusts. “Oh, God, Flynn.” Need spiraled up through my body and I realized I was moving too fast toward the edge. I spread my arms out on the desk, looking for something to ground me. There was nothing. I glanced up into his large, blue eyes, looking for help.

  “Don’t worry, Mia. I’ve got you,” he said as he laced his fingers with mine. “You can trust me.”

  He pinned my fingers to the desk, giving me the stability I craved. In that moment I knew he was right. I could trust him. Flynn was protective by nature, and right now all that protective energy was focused on me.

  “I’ve got you, too,” I said as I tightened my fingers around his.

  “I know.” He thrust harder, faster. As pleasure swept up through my body, I plunged deeper and deeper into the moment. The world around us slipped away until there was just Flynn and myself, and whatever this strange and wonderful thing was between us.

  I was racing closer and closer to the edge. Flynn was, too, if his quickening thrusts were any indication.

  “Come for me,” he whispered. “I want to feel you.” He let go of one of my hands and reached down between us.

  “Flynn—” My question died on my lips as he pressed my clit with his thumb. Pleasure burst through my system, making me light-headed. I arched my back and whispered his name as my orgasm slammed through my system. Never before had I felt anything so powerful or so good.

  Flynn’s thrusts became more jerky and desperate. “God, Mia, I’m close.”

  Before I could regain my wits, I felt him stiffen, then whisper my name as he joined me in oblivion.

  The moment was even better than I had hoped. All that existed for me was Flynn and the cocoon of pleasure he created. As he collapsed on top of my body, I curled my arms and legs around him, refusing to let this moment go. For the first time in my life, I felt alive and real. It was the most amazing feeling in the world.