Broken Parts (A Dark Romance) (Parts of Me Book 3)

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Broken Parts (A Dark Romance) (Parts of Me Book 3) Page 3

by J. A. Wynters


  The faster I cruised, the thicker the air became. It whistled in my ears and stroked my hair; it wrapped itself around me, no longer stale and sour but free and fresh. My mind shed away its burdens, the worry and fear fell away like dying stars in the sky. The bike tore a smile out of me that stretched and grew and expanded as I tore down the road.

  In truth, I never wanted to turn back. I should’ve kept going. I should have sped on into the night, ripping the memories of this day from my skin and never look back.

  But I was hooked. Like a fish on the end of the rod, Mia had caught me and my heart chugged for her, beating faster at the thought of never seeing her again. My body coiled at the idea, and the bike reared and wavered and tightened with my body.

  I smashed on the break and the bike skidded to a screeching halt, leaving behind a long black scar on the road.

  I looked ahead, the beam from the Harley slicing the road ahead. The bike had always been the bolt cutter to my past, the thing that was going to take me away from everything. There was nothing down that path; it was clear, guided by pure yellow light. There was no history there, no names, no books—a clean slate, a new beginning.

  Behind me, just beyond the empty darkness, I could make out the twinkling lights of the city. A city where Mia slept in my penthouse alone, where Salvatore poured over lists, where Simone was six feet under, and where Alice was…who the fuck knew where she was.

  My heart pounded as it rippled in my chest.

  Forwards.

  Backwards.

  Fresh start.

  Bad memories.

  New beginnings.

  Mia.

  Mia.

  Mia, it pounded—and I had my answer. Her line reeled me in, hooked tightly into me. I revved the engine, drowning in its rawness, in its powerful song and turned around and headed back to my garage. My future.

  I slowed as I approached the garage, noticing a familiar car parked across the road. I pulled up to it and knocked on the window, the bike purring beneath me.

  Romeo sat up, startled, and wound down his window.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Mia is inside.” I cocked a quizzical eyebrow at him. “She insisted. You said not to leave her side…”

  I turned the bike towards the roller door and pulled away, even as he kept talking. I smirked inside my helmet. Romeo didn’t have to explain, that woman had a stubborn streak that would never break.

  I rolled the bike into the workshop; Mia sat on a plastic chair she must have dragged in from the kitchen, one leg folded over the other, her hands folded across her chest. Her expression was vacant.

  I turned off the engine, listening to the ticking of the hot exhaust and brake discs as they cool until silence fell across the room. I climbed off the Harley, my body instantly missing the feel of the machine beneath me, the joy of the vibrations as they rang through me.

  “I thought I’d find you here.” She stood up seeming uncertain.

  “Why did you come here?”

  “I hate sleeping without you.”

  I wrenched a hand through my hair and shrugged.

  “Ask Romeo to take you back to The Hill.”

  “No.”

  I looked at Mia and rubbed a hand over my face, “Mia…”

  “Will you be back?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tonight?” I looked outside, the sun would soon rise and splash the horizon in purples and blues.

  “Not much night left.”

  “Gabriel?”

  “Probably not.”

  Her lips smacked together and stretched across her face in a thin line. She nodded and I could see the thoughts ticking behind her concerned eyes.

  “I just need time.”

  “How much time?”

  I scrubbed a hand over my face. It felt good to be wanted, needed; but what I needed was to be left alone. I’ve been alone for so long that I didn’t know how to share my misery or my joy—all of me. I just shrugged.

  “Ok.” She gave me a wane smile.

  “Ok?” I frowned.

  “Why do you sound so surprised?”

  “Because you are the most stubborn person I know. You never give in this easily, I was expecting more of a fight on my hands. “

  Her mouth tilted slightly at my words and for a second I regretted them, fearing the argument I was expecting was about to happen.

  “I can see how much pain you’re in Gabriel.”

  “Thanks, luce mia.” I smiled and snaked my hands around her waist my forehead leaning against hers. “Here you go doing that again.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Making me smile when there’s nothing to smile about.”

  “There’s lots to smile about.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  “We are here—together.”

  “Together?”

  “I’m here for you, with you, and that’s how it’s always going to be.”

  Her words ignited the room and suddenly it was alight. “Always?”

  “Always.” Her eyes were fierce as they locked onto mine.

  “Always is a very long time.” I whispered against her lips.

  “It’s not long enough.”

  My mouth found hers, teasing her lips apart. I pulled her into me as I sank deeper into the kiss. A rush of helplessness overtook me. I yielded to her warmth, my need, her kindness and drowned in her affection.

  I released her, breathless, dizzy, elated.

  “I better go.” She licked her glistening lips, her eyes wide.

  I almost protested.

  Almost.

  Instead, I lead her to the car and opened the door. She climbed into the backseat and gave me a final wistful look.

  “Make sure you get her back to The Hill. No stopovers. Follow her to the elevator and make sure she doesn’t leave.”

  Romeo gave me a two-finger salute and took off into the breaking dawn.

  Part XIX

  I woke up covered in sweat; the dream had returned. It was the same, but different. It was changing, augmenting, twisting and, like so much around me, I couldn’t control it.

  I pushed away from Mia, who grumbled as I got off the bed. I walked to the kitchen and made coffee. Fingers of light pushed away at the darkness and I watched the world wake up from my high-rise, wishing I was somewhere else.

  I turned around when I saw Mia shuffle into the room, a grin on her face. She wore one of my T-shirts, it swallowed her whole and exposed the long lines of her neck. She looked delectable.

  “What are you smiling at?”

  “I’m just enjoying the view.”

  “Oh?”

  She closed the distance between us and landed a soft peck on my lips and grabbed my coffee from my hand, taking a sip. “Mmmm, morning.”

  Her lip twitched as she looked at me from beneath her long lashes, taking another long sip from my coffee.

  I chuckled at her antics and returned to the kitchen to make myself a new cup. I watched the dark liquid fill the cup and wondered when things had become so comfortable between us. I watched Mia drinking my coffee, beaming at me. My heart skipped a beat.

  “Would you like some breakfast? I can order some.”

  “Sure, what does one eat on her first day of being thirty?” She stretched an arm over head as if she didn’t just drop a blatant bomb.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just did.” She smiled the sly devilish smile of hers, and my cock twitched.

  “Mia.” I warned her.

  “With Simone and everything else that’s been happening…”

  “That still doesn’t mean you get to miss your birthday!” I dragged my hand through my hair, my mind racing at a hundred miles a minute.

  “Get dressed, we’re going out for breakfast.”

  “Gabriel…”

  “I said go get ready.”

  “Gabriel, seriously—”

  “If you question me one more time, I’ll not be held accounta
ble for what happens.”

  At that she paused and sighed, “I’m going, I’m going.”

  A minute later the shower came to life and I grabbed the phone. Salvatore first, then the rest. I was going to make sure Mia never forgot her thirtieth birthday.

  She chose pancakes with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce. I was mesmerised as she licked her sweet lips and tucked her hair behind her ears, how she smiled and laughed and talked as if it’s always been us. Something rumbled inside of me, my body quaked like tectonic plates moved beneath the surface, shifting rearranging, creating new worlds. I knew just then how I felt, how I would always feel about Mia and it scared me more than anything else ever had.

  When we approached the The Hill, I wrapped my hand around her shoulder and pulled her closer to me.

  “There’s a surprise waiting for you upstairs, I want you to enjoy it.”

  She gave me a bewildered look that made me chuckle.

  “A surprise? You didn’t have to.”

  “I know, but I wanted to. I want to make today special for you.”

  “I don’t need special, I just need you.”

  My heart constricted with her words and my lips brushed hers, “And you’ll have me,” I smiled at her, “But you’ll also get taken care of.”

  She gasped, “What does that mean?”

  “Patience.”

  Her face furrowed and she folded her hands across her chest. Patience was not one of her virtues, and I was totally ok with that.

  When we arrived, I led her to the elevator and punched in the code.

  I kissed her cheek gently, “Enjoy.”

  “You’re not coming?” She pouted.

  “Just a few things to organise and I’ll be up.”

  She sucked on her lower lip and nodded, finally stepping into the elevator. The door shut behind her and heat tugged at my chest. There was so much I wanted to do for her, give her. She had become my everything.

  I stepped into my office and found Salvatore going through old files and paperwork. He didn’t look up as I walked in.

  “Boss.”

  I ground my teeth and glared at him, “What’ve you found?”

  “Still nothing. I am crossing names off the list and revisiting properties, but it’s taking time.”

  “It’s taking too much time.”

  At that, he shot me a look that was both wounded and annoyed. He looked tired in a way that I’ve never seen in him, he wore his guilt like a coat.

  “I know.” He let the papers drop to the desk and he slumped back into the chair, deflated.

  “I’ll be gone this weekend. Can you handle things?”

  He cocked and eyebrow at me.

  “Things have not been…as usual.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He straightened up in the chair and pulled on his jacket.

  “If you’re sure—”

  “I’ve already made your reservations, it’s all set. Go.”

  “It’s just one night,” our eyes locked. “Don’t say it.”

  “I wasn’t going to say a thing.” He held his hands up in surrender.

  I inhaled as I scanned the papers on my desk, “Maybe it’s time to shake the tree and see what falls out?”

  Salvatore’s jaw locked as his eyes narrowed. “Lupe?”

  “We got nothing to lose.”

  “We got everything to lose.”

  “We still have their videos.”

  “But if we bring them into this, they’ll think there’s a weakness. That’s all they need, an excuse.”

  I rubbed my hands over my face and nodded, “I’ll think about it tonight.”

  “Doubt it…” Salvatore mumbled, and I shot him a look that silenced him. Although, maybe we both knew he was right.

  “You know,” he rubbed his hand over his chin, where day old growth peppered his usually immaculate face, “You don’t have to come back.”

  My heart tripped on his words and an eyebrow shot up.

  Salvatore leaned forward onto the table, “You don’t. You have all the money in the world, a few successful legitimate businesses, relative peace and a woman that can stand the sight of you.” The tip of his mouth tilted upwards, “You don’t need to come back.”

  I raked a hand through my hair and studied Salvatore, my lips pinched, “I was away, and you called me back.”

  “Gabriel—”

  “I know. But until I find the fucker that took Mia and murdered Simone, I’m not going anywhere.” My tone held a note of finality, and Salvatore tipped his head and pushed up from the chair. He grabbed a handful of papers and started scanning the list.

  His gaze flicked to me, “Go. I have work to do.”

  With that, I left the office. I meandered around packed chairs, bikini clad waitresses and dancers who swung on poles, putting their bodies on display. I left Sin behind and went to my private elevator.

  Mia was waiting upstairs, and I couldn’t wait to see her.

  The elevator chimed my arrival, and I stepped into my penthouse. I removed my shoes and stepped silently into the living area.

  Mia lay face up on the table. Her brow furrowed, her mouth in a delectable pout as the masseuse kneaded her skin. Her naked torso covered in a pristine white towel that sat just above the knees. The oil gleamed on her body, making her skin glow against the sun filtering through the windows.

  I stole into the room and sat on the edge of the couch. I was a spectator to beauty.

  I watched Mia as the black woman massaged her neck and shoulders, the folds of her skin gathering around the woman’s expert fingers. Mia purred and winced as the woman elicited delectable moans from her. Mia’s body stiffened and relaxed as she treaded a familiar line of pleasure and pain; the pleasure of being touched and healed, the pain of the muscle being pushed and prodded. The woman played her like a piano—ivory and ebony—drawing beautiful melodies from Mia that made my cock hard and needy. I wanted to devour her, to worship her, and to show her who I really was.

  I crept over to the massage table and wordlessly signalled for the masseuse to leave. She lifted her hands from Mia and walked out of the room silently.

  My hands glided over her slippery, warm shoulders, and she gasped as my strong hands gripped her skin and her eyes shot open. Her head lifted from the bed.

  “Stay.” I growled in her ear and her body quivered beneath me as she settled back into the bed.

  Mia purred for me as I kneaded and teased her, following the contours of her shoulders and along her beautiful neck, down towards her chest. I peeled the towel from her, revealing her bare body. Mine hardened as hers softened beneath my touch.

  I traced her body up and down again and again with slow, deep, long-flowing strokes, teasingly caressing her. She moaned and hissed under my touch, her body writhing beneath my hands. Her nipples hardening, her legs squirming and pressing together, sucking her lower lip into her mouth with soft moans. Her breath shallow, her chest rising up and down in quick succession. She looked anything but relaxed. I smirked at the sight of her.

  “Turn over Mia.” I ordered through clenched jaws. My self-control was dwindling with every brush of her skin.

  She rolled over revealing her exquisite ass and long slender legs. Once she settled, I began my leisurely assault on her lower half.

  I found the little bottle and teased some oil into my hands then started again moving down along her strong back, the curve of her hips, the swell of her ass. I worked my way down agonisingly slow, deliberately digging my fingers into her muscles, drawing from her all the sounds of hunger and desire for more—more touch, more pleasure, more torturous delight.

  I worked up her right foot, moving slowly to her calf then the thigh. She purred and winced at my careful lengthy strokes, deliberately provocative along her skin. I switched over to the other leg. My fingers traced her inner thighs, sliding up and down towards her heated pussy but never touching her, leaving behind a trace of what could have been. Empty, heated promises. She squirmed beneat
h me trying to push herself against my fingers. I chuckled at her failed attempts and moved on.

  When I got to her ass, I had to stop myself from breaking it, slapping it, sinking my teeth into it like a ripe fruit; beautiful and bold, it teased me.

  It was only fair I do the same.

  I grabbed the bottle of oil and dripped it over her ass, watching the drops coat her skin and spill around her, across her, and into her. My cock twitched with dark intentions as my palms crested the shape of her ass, folding and pulling, pushing and kneading.

  My fingers, slick and slippery with the oil, slipped slowly to the opening of her ass. She gasped as I held it there.

  “Do you trust me Mia?”

  “Yes,” she whimpered.

  “Are you relaxed?” I breathed through gritted teeth.

  “So relaxed.” She said, even as she squeezed her small, tight asshole.

  I smirked, and pulled my hand away.

  “You know, I hear these things can have happy endings.”

  “You’ve heard?” Her words were muffled from beneath the table.

  “I want you to trust me Mia.”

  She pulled out her head and turned to me. “I do,” she smiled at me and I unbuckled my belt. Her eyes followed my every move.

  “Good.” I approached the table and locked eyes with her, “Bring your wrists together and push them through the head hole.”

  Her eyebrows came together in question.

  She paused.

  I waited.

  I swallowed my doubt.

  Breath held, belt in hand.

  My knuckles tightened against the leather.

  After what seemed like a lifetime, she shifted backwards and put her wrists together and slid them into the head hole.

  I grabbed her wrists and looped my belt around them attaching her to one of the legs.

  “This is really uncomfortable Gabriel.” She twisted her hands trying to find a comfortable perch—just what I had hoped.

  I stood at the side of the table still looking into her eyes—looking for doubt or fear, and I found none. “You will have a better angle if you shift forward, tuck your knees in and get your ass in the air.”

 

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