He got me.
But that didn't mean he needed to know that.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're not trying to keep me at a distance?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
Breaker put his mug down on the counter, shaking his head. "Babe, I'm pretty sure it was you I was inside last night," he started and I felt my cheeks heat. He did not just say that. "I know what you feel like and sound like when you come. I know what you taste like. And you don't think you can tell me what you were just thinking about a minute ago? You don't think you can let me in just a little bit?"
"For what purpose?"
"Because that's what people do, Alex," he said, his voice getting harsh. "You can't live a life hiding behind a computer, telling yourself vengeance is more important than living. Making connections. Going out. Sharing your story. What the fuck are you so scared of?"
"I'm not scared of anything!" I screeched, throwing away the rest of my toast, no longer hungry. I had never had an argument with a guy. Not ever. It was weird and it was making my belly twist and turn. And my old trusty friend anger was rearing his ugly head.
"Bull fucking shit, Alex. You're scared of everything."
That wasn't true. I wasn't scared of anything. Not the way most people were. Not in a way that made them cautious, that made them second guess things they wanted to do. I just barreled ahead, to hell with the consequences. What was the worst that could happen? I'd die? So what?
"No, I'm not..."
"You're so scared of life that you're not fuckin' scared of dyin', Alex," he said, his voice softer and his words fell with a weighted feeling inside me.
Because he was right.
He was right.
And that was, at once, really frustrating and overwhelmingly upsetting.
I was scared to live a life that didn't involve revenge. I didn't even know what a life like that would mean. If that was taken away from me, what would I have left?
I didn't even have to pause to know that answer: nothing. I would have nothing.
I felt my shoulders sag, my head looking down at my feet.
Christ, I was pretty pathetic.
"Don't do that," Breaker's voice cut in and I could see his feet moving toward me. "Don't pull away just because I'm right," he said, his hand going under the side of my jaw that wasn't bruised.
"Just leave me alone, Breaker," I said, my voice small. Was it really so hard to see that I wanted to be alone? That I had some shit to sort through?
"That ain't gonna happen. You're gonna stop burrowing into yourself and let me in."
"Why do you care?" I shot out, my gaze lifting to his and realizing immediately that it was a mistake.
"Because you came crashing into my life talking about twisted porn and taking down the city's worst crime lord in years. You showed me your grit and determination. Your weird brand of selfless strength. Your smart fuckin' mouth. And your phenomenal fuckin' body. You gave me that. For a day, Alex. A fucking day. And I can't get enough of it. So I want more."
"What if I can't give you more?"
"You can," he said simply, his thumb stroking across my lips. "But maybe that can wait a bit," he said, his gaze falling to my mouth.
"Wait?" I asked, feeling a heaviness settling on my chest, a heat rising in my belly.
"First I think I need a reminder about that phenomenal body," he clarified.
At his words, there was that pre-orgasm fluttering again and I pressed my thighs tighter against it.
"That I can give you," I said carefully, watching as his eyes darkened.
"Goddamn right you can," he said, stepping away. Then moving away, turning his back on me and going toward the living room. "Ain't gonna wait all day for you to follow me," he called as he lowered himself down onto the couch. "Get your pretty little ass over here and ride me."
Oh.
Geez.
Okay.
Alright.
Before my mind could even make the decision, my feet were carrying me toward him. I moved around the front of him, standing between his open legs.
"Tee off," he instructed, watching me in a lazy way.
I reached for the hem and hauled off the tee, dropping it on the floor next to my feet. I took a shaky breath, watching his eyes move slowly down my body, then just as slowly back up.
"Go get a condom out of the nightstand," he instructed and I reached self-consciously for my tee again. "No," he said, putting his foot down on it. "Go like that."
"Breaker..." I tried to reason.
"Like when you say my name. I like it better when you say it when I'm inside you. So go get a fuckin' condom so I can hear that again."
Flutter flutter flutter.
He was killing me and he hadn't so much as brushed the air around me. So I swallowed hard against the insecurity, turned, and made my way back to the bedroom. I grabbed a condom out of his nightstand and made my way back, trying like hell to keep my chin up and a blush off my cheeks. A mantra like one of those ridiculous self-help hypnosis cds playing in my head on a loop: I am a strong, confident, sexually experienced woman who does not need to feel ashamed of her nudity.
I handed the condom to Breaker who slipped his sweatpants down, casually pulling out his hard cock, and slipping it on.
I felt a clench in my sex at the sight before his eyes rose to me again. "Come here," he said, his voice rough and soft at the same time. Which didn't seem possible, but it was.
I moved toward him, putting a knee on either side of his thighs so I was straddling him. His hands immediately went to my hips, moving up and over my ribs, running across the sensitive undersides of my breasts before covering them and squeezing, making my head fall back on a groan as my hips lowered, seeking him and the fulfillment he offered.
"You already wet for me, doll?" he asked, one of his hands going around my back to push me forward toward him, his head ducking so his mouth could take my nipple, rolling his tongue over it until it was straining, then sucking hard.
"Yes," I admitted, my hips rocking across his cock.
"Then take my cock," he said, moving over to the other nipple and repeating the torture until my rocking became more frantic and I reached down between us, taking his cock in my hand, and moved it toward the entrance, pausing when he pressed against me. His head rose, one of his hands going to the back of my neck and digging in. "Take me inside you, Alex," he instructed, and the flutter was so strong it was practically a full-blown orgasm. So I lowered my hips, feeling him press across the threshold and closing my eyes on a moan. "No," he said, the hand on the back of my neck tightening hard enough to bruise. "Look at me when you fuck me."
My eyes opened slowly, feeling heavy, like I had to fight to keep them open. Until I found his ice blue eyes, seeing the coolness there completely absent, replaced entirely by warmth, by heat. And I never wanted to look away.
"'Kay," I said quietly, feeling him bury to the hilt.
"Show me how you want it," he told me, his other hand moving to press at the lowest part of my back, just above my ass.
Then I started moving. At first, just rocking my hips forward and back before starting an up and down thrust, feeling my body clench hard around him every time his cock withdrew.
"You like it slow?" he asked, not sounding disappointed, despite that 'no slow and sweet lover' warning he had given me before.
But even as he asked, I could feel the desire reaching a fever-pitch, becoming an overwhelming, clawing need to be released. And my hips started moving faster, my breathing becoming more ragged, my heart slamming. My hands moved to his hard chest, digging in slightly as my pace became more and more erratic, too far gone to keep it steady.
"Fuck," he growled, both of his hands moving until they were at my hips and he held them in place, his body suddenly starting to move under mine, thrusting up into me in a fast, steady pace that had the whimpers becoming load, constant moans as my body felt the end coming close. "Tell me you like when I
fuck you," he said in a deep, struggling voice.
"I like when you fuck me," I answered immediately. It was true. Painfully so. "Oh, my God... fuck..." I groaned, my nails nipping into the skin of his chest as I felt the tightening deep in my core, the threat of the explosion. Then his cock thrust upward again and I felt my orgasm tearing through my system, his name coming out on a strangled gasp.
I fell forward, my face burying into his neck as it rolled through me, making my body jolt in aftershocks.
He kept thrusting even as my moans became a murmured contentment. "Nuh uh, doll, ain't done with you yet," he said, sounding amused as he suddenly knifed up to a standing position, taking me with him, wrapped around his center.
Arms around his shoulders, face buried in his neck, I had no idea we were even moving until I felt my back slam against a wall.
My head snapped up to find him looking down at me, a devilish smirk at his lips. "You got to do it your way. Now I get to do it mine."
I felt a thrill shoot through me at the words. But then his hands were sliding from my hips, going behind my knees, making them tilt up and my hips jolt down awkwardly and if I wasn't pressed against the wall, I would have been on my ass. He yanked my knees up higher and held them up as he started slamming into me, his hips hitting my inner thighs with each thrust in a way that was going to end up bruising. But I was too far gone to care as his thickness pushed me mercilessly back upward, making my breathing that had just leveled out become hitched and ragged.
His face tilted, moving next to my ear as his body jerked ruthlessly into mine. "Sweet fuckin' pussy," he growled. "You like it rough?" he asked, not needing to as I was mid moan as he did.
"Yes."
His head tilted, taking my lips to his and crushing into them as his pace got somehow even faster.
The tightening inside strengthened and I felt myself begging against his lips, "Don't stop."
"Not till you're fuckin' screamin'," he promised back, his tongue moving forward to claim mine.
It was seconds... seconds later that I felt the coil inside snap, sending with it the pulsating rush of pleasure that was stronger than any I had ever known before.
Then I screamed. Like he said. His name. Like he liked.
His head lifted, watching my face as he thrust through my orgasm, drawing it out, then burying deep as he came, growling out my name.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he said against my neck a few minutes later.
Unable to make my brain and voice box work together to form words, I felt my head nodding. That seemed to cover it. Jesus fucking Christ.
"I hurt you?" he asked, pulling backward, his hands sliding from under my knees to under my ass.
There was soreness. A whole lot of it. Between my legs. My inner thighs. But it was a good kind of soreness.
"No," I said, opening my eyes to his.
To this, he nodded, lowering my feet down onto the ground. "Fuckin' perfect," he mumbled, one of his hands moving up my belly to cup my breast briefly before settling on my jaw. The sore side. Stroking butterfly soft over the bruise. "Go get some clothes on," he said, moving away from me.
"Why?" I asked, leaning back against the wall, not fully trusting my legs to hold me yet.
"We're gonna go to your place and get some of your shit," he said, walking into the bathroom.
At that, my legs seemed to remember their job as they carried me over to my tee. I threw it on before making my way over to the bathroom door.
"What?" I asked through the closed door.
It whipped open and there was Breaker. Still naked. Still blissfully comfortable that way.
"You need some clothes. We'll grab your laptop. Anything else you need. You're gonna be here a while. Might as well have your shit with you."
With that, he brushed past me and went to get clothes on.
A part of me was hesitant to go anywhere. To leave the relative safety of his home. But he was right. I needed clothes. My laptop would be good too. And my notebooks. The picture of my mom I kept in a box under my bed. I didn't have much. Hell, we would probably carry in our hands everything I owned.
So I went into the bathroom, found my dust-covered yoga pants and slipped them on commando, deciding to keep his tee on rather than put my old dirty one back on. Then I slipped into the boots Breaker bought me and went out to meet him. He was changed into dark wash jeans and a dark gray long sleeve thermal that looked way too good over his broad chest.
"Let's go," he said, moving to the door and leaving me to follow.
FOURTEEN
Breaker
I was half-surprised when her place hadn't been ransacked. And when the surprise wore off, worried. It should have been torn apart. Whatever the fuck Lex had planned for Alex, it should have involved going through her shit, figuring her out. The fact that he hadn't done that was yet another thing in a long list of things that just didn't make sense.
Alex didn't seem fazed by it as she went right to her closet and dragged out a large black duffel bag and started stuffing clothes into it.
I looked around her place again, this time able to take my time, see it with clearer eyes.
She really didn't have shit. No pictures. No knickknacks. No art or books. Nothing that would let you know who she was underneath it all. I wondered fleetingly if she even knew who that person was.
"How bad is the Chinese below?" I asked, thumbing through one of her coded notebooks.
"Bad. But I've had worse," she said, grabbing a handful of bras out of her dresser.
"You ain't gonna need those," I said, nodding to her hand. "I'm gonna go grab some food. Not that your burnt toast wasn't delicious, doll, but I need real food."
"Ha ha," she said, taking the bras and stuffing them into her bag regardless of my having no intentions of letting her wear them. "What? You're not even going to ask me what I want?" she asked, sounding genuinely annoyed at the idea as I stood in the doorway.
"Figured I'd get a bunch of shit to share."
"What if I didn't like what you ordered?" she asked, putting her hands to her hips.
"Are we seriously arguing about fuckin' Chinese food?"
"It's more your presumptuousness that's the issue."
She could argue about anything. Heatedly. I knew if I didn't give in that we were gonna go a couple rounds. For no good fuckin' reason. That was just how she was. And if it wasn't so fuckin' hot, I would probably find it annoying. "Fine, doll. What do you want to eat?"
At this, she dropped her hands from her hips and shrugged. "I'll eat anything."
It was so ridiculous and unexpected, I found myself throwing my head back and laughing. "You fuckin' serious?" I asked through it. "You bitch at me about not asking you what you want when you don't give a fuck what I order?"
"Like I said... it was the principle of the thing."
Jesus Christ.
She was a fuckin' nut.
But I walked down the fire escape smiling.
I was watching the people behind the counter load up the brown bag with soy sauce and mustard packets when my cell rang. The sound immediately filled me with dread. I had no other jobs going on. And while it wasn't uncommon to get a call about a new one, they usually began with a tentative text with a passcode first so they knew it was really me before they got me on the phone.
I reached for it and hit the call button.
"Yo."
"Breaker," Lex's slimy voice met my ear and confirmed the churning feeling in my gut.
"Lex," I said back, sounding bored though the blood was whooshing in my ears.
"How is my girl holding up?"
Fuck. This was shaky ground. There was a chance I was being watched so I couldn't lie. But it also didn't look good that I was parading around with her not cuffed or looking the least bit disheveled. Hell, when we left my place, she looked freshly fucked and contented.
"Pain in my ass. Demanding I take her back to her place to get her a change of clothes."
"Gotta love a girl
with spirit," he remarked making my lip snarl up. He liked girls with spirit because he enjoyed breaking them. Sick fuck.
"Why you calling Lex?" I asked, handing cash to the girl with the food.
"Keeping an eye on my investment."
"Investment?" I repeated, taking the bag of food and walking to the door, stepping onto the sidewalk.
"Yes. I have plans for her."
"Enough with the fuckin' code, man. What do you want?"
"I need you to bring Miss. Miller to my office tomorrow."
Shit.
"Which office?" I asked, knowing this made a big difference to Alex's fate.
"Oscar Street," he answered immediately.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
"What time?"
"Eleven."
"Be there," I said, hanging up before I could say what I was really thinking.
Namely, that I should take Alex and get the fuck out of dodge.
Lex had a number of offices in a number of locations. There were the ones he called you to to discuss new business deals. Offices with a desk and bookshelves and a sidebar full of nice liquor. Then there were the 'offices' that were cheaply decorated in the front room because the meeting was really taking place in the back and it usually meant a lot of your blood would be washed down the drains in the floor.
Oscar Street was one of the office fronts.
And if he was being smart (which he usually was), there were eyes on me. There would be no running off.
I made my way back up the fire escape with a pit in my stomach, opening the door and freezing.
Alex was standing in front of her desk, piling the notebooks into a cardboard box. She had changed into a pair of light wash skinny jeans and a purple long sleeved t-shirt. And a bra, I noticed with a smirk. But that wasn't what had me pausing.
It was that she was singing.
A slow, somber song that was about smiling when your heart was breaking. I had a vague memory of it playing on some oldies station when I was growing up. But whoever I had heard singing it didn't do it justice. Something about it coming from Alex's lips, her voice a smooth, crooning sound, had the words landing heavy in my chest. She had a great voice. But it wasn't that. It was seeing the Alex behind the walls and fences for a moment- soft and sweet and unprotected- that had my breath getting caught.
Savages Series Boxed Set Page 13