Broken Hero

by Wright, Aubrey

  “Jesus Christ,” I muttered. “Oh fuck.”

  “Oh my god,” Emma moaned. “Oh, that’s so good. Oh god, Michael.”

  Michael? She’d just murmured my name. She fucking wanted me. That was it. The last fucking straw. How was I supposed to resist her? I had to get a grip on this situation before I made things worse.

  I opened my mouth to announce my presence but stopped. That was a dipshit idea. This was a fucking mistake, and she didn’t need to know about it. I took a step back, my dick stiff and aching for me to stay, to call out to her. To claim her.

  You’re fucking insane.

  I took another step back, my gaze still glued to her form.

  God, she was beautiful. She was lost in her rapture, her golden hair sweeping across the pillow, her breasts rising and falling, her moans catching in her throat. This would be burned into my memory for eternity.

  “Don’t stop, Michael,” she whispered. “Don’t stop. I’m going to come.”

  Fuck me. I could just close the door and go, and she’d never know, but my foot caught the rug, and the side table it sat on lurched. The vase of flowers atop it wobbled, tipped over, then crashed to the wooden surface.

  The noise brought Emma right out of her reverie. She snapped her hand up and opened her eyes, spotted me, and let out a shriek that would’ve woken the dead. “Jesus!” she screamed, drawing out the word.

  I put my hands up like she had a gun.

  “What are you—how are you—? Michael! What the hell?” She grabbed a pillow and covered herself, her cheeks pink. God, she was adorable, even in her mortification.

  “Sorry,” I said, because what the fuck else could I say? Sorry, not sorry. In truth, very fucking sorry, because this would be my fantasy for the next few years.

  “Oh my good god.” Her pink flush turned red, her embarrassment to anger. She tugged on one of the earphone cords and ripped it free. “Ow!” She rubbed her ear. “Oh god, ow. What the hell, Michael? Why are you in here? You’re just coming into my room now?”

  “I needed to talk to you,” I replied evenly, and lowered my hands. “I knocked. I heard a noise. I thought you were in trouble.”

  “Was that some kind of inappropriate joke?” She stared me down, one hand on her ear, the other holding the pillow over her crotch.

  “No.” But it was kind of funny now that I thought about it. Her moaning my name quietly, me believing she needed help.

  “Well, say, this is fun,” she said. “You—standing there while I’m still half-naked.”

  And covered in your own delicious juices. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “But do you think you could, oh, I don’t know, give me some friggin’ privacy?”

  “Of course,” I said and immediately backed out of the room, shutting the door behind me. Christ, what a screw-up. If it had been bad before, it was worse now. I’d seen her naked. Not fully, but, Jesus, what I had seen would be imprinted on me for the rest of my life. My cock was still hard—thank fuck she hadn’t noticed that.

  I gave up the task of talking to her today and headed for my bedroom instead, my mind stuck on her hand, the touching, the moaning, the wetness, the bliss.

  This was why I needed her out. My attraction to her was inappropriate. I had work to do. A new restaurant to open: one that wouldn’t rely on George, who just so happened to be her ex-boyfriend and my best friend. Well, technically my best friend. Sort of. And she was a distraction.

  You know she’s more than that.

  She was an unhealthy need. I slammed my way into my bedroom and shut the door behind me, fast. The urge to whip my dick out of my pants and get rid of this tension was still there. I stripped off my shirt and tossed it aside, then lowered myself to the ground and did twenty push-ups in a row, trying to force the thoughts away. Force Emma away.

  She was off-limits. Fuck, I wasn’t even into relationships. I hadn’t had sex in months, simply because I didn’t have the time for it, but with her… I got the sense that shit would go places I didn’t want it to go, and fast.

  “Quit,” I muttered, “It.” I did another five push-ups.

  A knock rat-tatted against my bedroom door. I licked my lips and brought myself up. I could handle this. My dick wasn’t raging against the inside of my pants anymore, at least. I walked to the door and wrenched it open.

  Emma did a little hop and squeak on the other side, then settled, flushing again. “Hi,” she said.

  She was fully clothed now, but no less beautiful for it. She’d tied her hair up to reveal more of her face: high cheekbones, bright blue eyes, and pouty, kissable lips.

  “Hello,” I replied.

  “Hi,” she repeated, and her gaze danced over my chest, lingered on my tattoos. “I mean—yeah.”

  “Look.” I raised a palm. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened back there. I shouldn’t have gone into your room, but I heard a noise and I thought you might’ve been in trouble. One of your seizures.”

  “Yeah, fine,” she said. “I get it. I—let’s just forget about the whole thing, OK? I mean, I don’t even know how much you saw.” She pressed her lips together, her gaze now on my face, measuring my reactions. Shit, she wanted to figure out if I’d heard her say my name. If I gave that game away, she’d be mortified. And it would open a can of worms between us.

  “Not much,” I replied, shrugging. “Just enough to know you were having a good time. A good private time that I shouldn’t have intruded on. Sorry.” Sorry never came easy to me. I’d come from a background where “sorry” meant weakness, and weakness was punished harshly. But with Emma, it just flowed out of me. It felt right.

  You’ve got issues.

  “I—guess I understand why that happened. Ha, like I said. Forget about it. Now, uh, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked, tipping her head to one side, her blonde ponytail flopping down, the tips of her hair touching one shoulder.

  I considered it.

  If she moved out, I’d lose the opportunity to be around her. Just to be in her presence.

  Christ, you’re whipped. She’s your friend. She’s your buddy’s ex. She’s just a roommate, nothing more.

  How did it get this far?

  “Nothing,” I replied gruffly. Wrong decision.

  “Seriously?” she asked. “I mean, I thought it was a big deal. You don’t usually come crashing into my bedroom like that.”

  “I didn’t crash,” I said. “I knocked. And tiptoed creepily.”

  “Yeah, that makes it better.” She rolled her eyes, but her lips tugged upward at the corners. She was already over the whole incident, or maybe she was good at hiding her embarrassment. Either way, Emma had a great sense of humor. “You sure there’s nothing you want to talk to me about?” she asked. “I’m about to start writing. Or at least try to before I go to work.” The words were heavy with emotion—regret or self-doubt, I couldn’t tell.

  She’d been having trouble with her writing lately, and I’d noticed her light on till late at night.

  “It’s nothing, Emma,” I replied, even stiffer than the last time. I couldn’t help myself here—I had to push her away or I’d end up making the biggest damn mistake of my entire life. “Not important. I’m going to get back to my workout now.”

  “Oh,” she said, recoiling a little, a frown wrinkling her brow. “Oh, OK. I guess I’ll be on my way then. I mean, yeah, you know what I mean.” She gave a quick, awkward laugh, swept her gaze up and over me one more time, then cleared her throat. Finally, she spun on her heel and rushed back across the hall and into her bedroom.

  During that conversation, it had taken every ounce of my mental restraint not to picture what I’d seen. I shut the door slowly, shaking my head.

  “You’re an idiot,” I muttered. And I was.

  If I didn’t kick her out of this place soon, then what? Fuck, I didn’t know, but the rational part of my brain that wasn’t driven by lust or emotion demanded it of me. Get her out, move on with your life, don’t let anyone in,
ever again.

  Emma on her bed. Emma pleasuring herself. Moaning your name. Wanting you. Needing you.

  It couldn’t mean anything. That was all there was to it.

  I ignored my stiff cock, ready, once again, at the mere thought of her, and walked back to my bed. I dropped down beside it and started the push-ups again, pressing them out until sweat streaked my back, dripping from my temples onto the floor.

  It didn’t work. Nothing erased the image of her from my mind or the urgent need to make her mine.

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  Hate You Less Sneak Peek

  Introduction

  The prick left without saying a word.

  Took my virginity and broke my heart in one fell swoop.

  Now we're reunited, and stuck in a damn blizzard.

  He was my best friend’s older brother.

  The hot jock every girl wanted.

  But that doesn’t excuse his assholeness.

  He better keep that charming smile to himself.

  You know the smile.

  The one that makes panties melt into thin air.

  My mission: Make it through my bestie’s wedding with my panties still intact.

  I still hate him.

  And love him.

  What do they call that? Oh yeah.

  Insanity.

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  Chapter one

  Rick

  This was the last place I wanted to be.

  Back in Vermont.

  Close to where I’d met her. Touched her. Taken her. Ruined her.

  The memory of her silky smooth skin beneath my fingertips, her hair across the pillow, her body responding to my every touch—fuck, even her moans—was all too much.

  Keep it together, asswipe, you’re in public.

  Understatement of the damn century.

  The airport was a zoo, full of holiday travelers, and I was the dumbass who’d wound up without a car over Christmas. I made my way through the terminal and toward the downstairs rental car area, my business shoes tapping on the floor.

  Just like everywhere else in the airport, a mass of people stood packed at the door. I’d hoped that flying in a week before Christmas would help me avoid the chaos of holiday travel, but I’d learned over the course of the day that this wasn’t the case at all.

  There wasn’t anything else to do but step up to the crowd and try to make my way in. Commotion sounded all around me as customers argued with employees, the people in line casting nervous glances at the ominous-looking clouds outside.

  A storm was coming, that was for damn sure. I needed to be on the road as fast as possible.

  Fuck, I’d booked a damn Aston Martin for this exact reason. Planned on opening her up on the freeway and reaching speeds that’d blow the panties off a virgin. But the company I’d rented from had fallen through, and I couldn’t stay stranded here. I was only in Vermont for my sister’s wedding.

  Finally, the line shifted, and it was my turn.

  “Good evening,” I said. “I need a car.”

  The clerk, a heavyset, middle-aged woman, gave me a look that made it seem like I’d asked to borrow a thousand bucks.

  “Do you…have a reservation?” she asked.

  “No,” I said. “But I’ll take whatever luxury car you have available.”

  She snorted, her lips curling upward. “Uh, we’re totally out of luxury cars, sir,” she said. “Not a one.”

  There went my fantasy of tearing down the highway in style. “Fine,” I said. “Then whatever economy car you have available is fine.”

  “Sir, I’m afraid we’re completely out of cars. Unless you have a reservation, there’s nothing I can do for you.”

  I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet, opening it up and flicking through the hundreds. “OK,” I said, leaning in to read her name tag. “Beth—I know how this works. How many of these am I going to need to slip your way to get one of these cars? Normally, I’d never drive an economy car, but if that’s all you have…”

  “Sir, you’re not understanding me,” she said and smacked her lips as if it gave her pleasure. “There are simply no more cars available.”

  I snapped my wallet shut. First time in the history of my billionaire-CEO life that I hadn’t been able to buy my way out of a sticky situation. Boohoo, silver spoon. “Nothing? You’ve got to be shitting me. What about at the other rental places?”

  “We got a huge rush once word came in about the weather,” she said, “and right now we’re just about—”

  “Winters?” called out one of the other employees. “Miss Annie Winters?”

  “Holy shit,” I said.

  “Excuse me?” asked the employee.

  Annie Winters. Now there was a name I hadn’t heard in a long time. But it couldn’t be the same girl…

  “Here!” A woman’s voice cut through the crowd. A very familiar woman’s voice, lilting, but lifted above the noise.

  I glanced in the direction of the voice I knew so well just in time to spot the profile of Annie Winters herself, the girl I’d loved back in high school—hell, maybe the only girl I’d ever loved—as she took a set of keys from the employee who’d called her name before hurrying off.

  She melted into the crowd and was gone, like something out of a dream.

  “Sir?” asked the employee. “Is there something else I can help you with?”

  “No,” I shouted, turning to run. “Merry Christmas!”

  I burst out of the crowd, scanning the nearby area for Annie. Was it really her? It had to have been—same name, same voice, same beautiful face.

  Maybe I’d missed her. Maybe she’d slipped out of airport and was behind the wheel of her car, ready to take off.

  My gaze landed on a slim willowy figure dressed in a black, quilted jacket with a pair of shapely, jean-clad legs. Her hair was a gorgeous strawberry blonde pulled back into a simple ponytail. And when she turned her head, giving me a glimpse of her profile, I nearly stumbled backward.

  It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. I had to be imagining things.

  Then she turned in my direction, her mint-green eyes fixed on some point in the middle distance, her features scrunched up in concentration.

  It was her. It was Annie Winters, the girl I’d loved and lost more than a decade ago. The girl who’d let me be her first. Who I’d thought about all through the flight over here, in my quiet private jet.

  My mind raced—what the hell she was doing here? Shit, of course, she was good friends with Jess, my kid sister. Of course she’d be back in town for the wedding.

  I almost didn’t want to say anything. After all, the last time we’d spoken was back in high school. And to say we hadn’t left things on the best of terms would be such an understatement that it was almost comical.

  But then I caught sight of something in her hands, something metal and shiny.

  Car keys.

  She had a way out of here. All I had to do was risk getting punched in the mouth.

  It was strange—I’d never been a man afraid of confrontation. After all, to make it in New York City real estate you practically had to crave it. But here I was, afraid of talking to her. I took a deep breath and strode in her direction.

  “Annie?” I asked.

  She looked around in surprise, clearly shocked to hear her name. Then she flicked her gaze in my direction, and the color drained out of her already-fair face.

  “Holy shit,” she said.

  I closed the distance between us, now only a few feet from her. Up close, every detail of her astoundingly lovely face was crystal clear. Her eyes were that brilliant, light green, with thick, expressive eyebrows above them. Her nose was a pert little freckle-dusted thing situated above her rich, Cupid’s bow lips. And all was painted upon a beach of cream-white skin.

  “I never remembered you having a mouth like that,” I said with a mischievous smirk. That was true. But I did have fond memories of her mou
th doing other things.

  “No way,” she said. “Rick. Rick freaking Mason.” She let her bag drop to her feet as she scanned me.

  “Not my middle name, Annie, but you got the rest of the details right.”

  “And still with the same smart-ass sense of humor,” she said, shaking her head. “Some things never change.”

  I opened my arms and pulled her into a quick, tight hug. Even through her thick coat, her body felt absolutely heavenly against mine, and my cock twitched to attention. The scent of her hair flooded my senses, and I got drunk on her for a second, had to force myself to detach.

  As soon as I let her go, I remembered that she had all the reason in the world to sock me in the gut right there in the middle of the baggage claim.

  “I can’t believe it’s you,” she said, shaking her head again. “What are you doing here?”

  “Same thing you are, I assume,” I said. “Here for Jess’s wedding?”

  “Oh, that’s right,” she said. “She is your sister, after all.”

  An awkward silence fell over us as we regarded one another, neither of us sure what to say. “Um, well, good to bump into you!” she said. “I’ll see you back in town!” She started to turn, but I held my hand up.

  “Wait,” I said.

  She stopped in her tracks.

  “I’m…kind of in a tight spot here,” I said. “You heard about the storm, right?”

  She nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “Supposed to be killer. I’m hoping to get to Lancaster before it hits.”

  “Same here,” I said. “Thing is, there was a problem with the car I’d reserved for the trip.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Just grab another one, then.” I could tell she knew where this was going and didn’t want to be a part of it.

  “Thing about that. Everyone here’s thinking the same thing you are, wanting to get the hell out of Dodge before the snow hits. That means—”