Love Broken Read online

  This went on for three whole days, until I couldn’t take it any longer. And dammit, he loved knowing he was getting to me. He knew every time he turned on that shower, I pictured him touching that perfect cock I’m sure he has and stroking it as he insinuated the first night. And all I wanted to do was fucking stroke it! I wanted to do so many things! Ahhh! What was wrong with me? He was evil. That’s what conclusion I came to. He was nice, and sweet, and evil.

  On day three I opened my door. I just couldn’t leave the pizza out there any longer. I’d had a long day and got stuck signing almost two hours after the show because there were so many people! Charlie was right there with me, and since we were both stuck, he had no one else but me to send his postcards to. And I was so damn sick of seeing his postcard chest. I actually started convincing myself that maybe it was time I saw the real thing. Just take a little dip in the fantasy world. I would be fine. I could play in his world and easily pull myself out. I wouldn’t get sucked into the bullshit of fake men and fake love. I mean, I didn’t even like him. How can it get out of hand?

  So, I finally opened the door. And there he stood, holding the pizza that smelled like heaven, with his smile matching the beauty of the pizza. And to further sell me, a bottle of vodka. He had officially, semi, kinda, sorta won me over.

  And without a word, shockingly, he walked in with that damn smirk on his face. We ate pizza in silence, and I just stared at him while trying to figure out his game. Did we just go at it once we were done? Does he get me super drunk first, so I loosen up? I just couldn’t figure him out. I mean, I would have been fine if he just left the pizza. I’m sure he has a long list of blood suckers in the lobby he could spend his time with.

  But he stayed. And we ate pizza.

  Just as I’m almost through with my fourth piece—don’t judge, it was a long day—I finally throw the white flag up and lean back against the bed frame. As I let out a huge breath of air, I notice Charlie staring at me.

  “What do you want, Bates?” I ask, acting nonchalant.

  “To find my certain kind of someone,” he says, quoting a line from my book.

  “You read my book?” I ask, shocked and sitting forward.

  “Yeah. I wanted to know what all the hype was about. Why, are you shocked?”

  “That you can read, yeah. I thought you were just a pretty face.” I fight to hide my laughter.

  “Ahh, so you’re admitting you think I’m pretty,” he pokes, sliding closer up the bed.

  I catch his move and lean back against the bed frame again. “Well, sure, you’re like a cute little puppy people can’t help but wanna pet. But little do they know you’re probably lacking obedience, and you’re a biter. I bet you pee in the house too.” Where the hell am I going with this?

  He smiles, then more movement. He’s getting closer.

  “Well, I can only admit to one thing and that is, I do possibly bite.”

  Oh, fuck. Stay away from me.

  He scooches an inch closer.

  Please don’t come any closer.

  Eliminating the final space between us until our thighs are touching, he picks up my plate and moves it to the side. Leaning in, he inhales my scent.

  “You aren’t my type, so this is doing nothing for me,” I whisper, my eyes fighting not to close.

  “I know,” he says, leaning the rest of the way in and kisses me. His lips, like soft silk, caress my mouth, licking my lower lip as he gently bites down. He lifts his hand, placing it around my neck, wrapping his fingers just below my hairline, and increases the pressure of our kiss.

  I kiss him back. Because, who wouldn’t? His mouth is perfection. His taste, his lips. “I am not enjoying this at all,” I mumble as I press my lips harder onto his.

  “I know you’re not,” he moans, increasing the pace as his tongue meets mine. Each stroke sends me just a little bit more on the worried side, that I seriously am enjoying it. Enjoying him. I’m not sure how it happens, but my hands work their way into his hair and they pull him closer, forcing him to practically straddle me. As the moans filter through the room and our kiss starts getting out of hand, he suddenly pulls away. Confused, and halfway in heat, I look at him, waiting for him to suggest we get naked.

  “Thank you for having dinner with me. I hope it was everything you ever imagined it would be.” Then he completely pulls away, taking that fucking smile with him, and stands. He turns my way, catching my stunned expression. “I’ll leave the vodka here. I heard mixing clears and darks is not a good idea. See you tomorrow, Bailey Swan.” And then he walks to my door and leaves.

  Then I hear the goddamn whistling, followed by the shower.

  Fuck those lips.

  And fuck his advice.

  We’ve been on the tour for only a week, and I want to quit and go home. The book tour itself is amazing. I guess I never really put much thought into the impact I’d make when I published my book. The stories that are being told are truly heartwarming. On more than one occasion a reader has put me in tears, and I swear I’ve become a godparent to a handful of readers’ first-born children.

  As much as the spotlight is fun, I miss the bar. I miss my simple life. A life where no one paid much attention to me, unless I was underserving them. And sometimes they didn’t even catch that. I’ve also had enough of him. Charlie fucking Bates. It’s like he’s taking everything in my book and trying to reenact it! Every night, he shows up with his damn pizza and feeds me. I don’t know why, but each time I let him in. More or less I let the pizza in. We eat practically in silence as I scowl at him and then when we’re done, he attacks me. He kisses me until I can’t even remember why I don’t like him and then he bids me a nice night. As in leaves! I swore after last night I wouldn’t let him in anymore. After our showers practically turned on at the same time, I made a vow that I seriously did not like him and he was no longer allowed in my room. I was going to ask Kristen to move my table far away from his and literally taser anyone who came even close to my table with his postcard.

  I’m walking back up to my room, my boots in my hands because my feet feel like they’re going to fall off. I sense his presence before he even talks, more so because I can hear the parade of squealing girls behind him.

  “Want any different toppings on your pizza tonight?” He leans in, whispering into my ear.

  I reach the elevator and turn to him.

  “Seriously? Just stop. Go play with your groupies and leave me alone. I’m not sure what sort of game you’re playing here, but if you haven’t caught on, I’m not interested. I’m not your type, Bates. And you’re not mine.”

  He leans casually against the elevator, staring at me. “And how do you know you’re not my type? You have never asked me what my type is.”

  I turn, rolling my eyes. “Bates, I know your type. The perfect A-lister. The blonde, perfect rack. Plump lips, probably dumb as a rock but doesn’t matter because she looks super pretty and is super easy to get in the sack.”

  He looks like he’s pondering my description and it makes me even angrier. “She doesn’t sound like she likes pizza, so you’re way off.”

  I grunt and smack my shoes against my side. Where the fuck is this elevator? “Well, I’m sure she would eat it as long as you turned a blind eye long enough for her to purge it back up. God forbid her weight goes over a hundred pounds, minus the weight in her fake titties.”

  I don’t know why this annoys me. Who cares who he likes? It’s not my problem. I’m not even in his league, or him in mine. My league is… well… who knows what my league is. It’s a no-league, league.

  “Bates, just leave me alone. Go satisfy one of your fans. I’m sure they’ll play your games.” I turn away, praying the elevator door opens so I can escape his staring gaze.

  Just before Charlie can counterargue, a squeal rings out from behind us. “Oh my god, Charlie Bates, I finally caught you! I must get a picture with you.”

  We both turn to see a cute little blonde chirp from behind us, smiling
wide, while pushing her boobs out.

  I roll my eyes and turn back to the elevator. Come on, come on.

  “I’m actually busy, so maybe tomorrow at the signing,” Charlie says, keeping his attention on me. “Listen, if you don’t want pizza, I can bring up something—”

  “Oh, but please! I won’t be able to stay for tomorrow’s signing, and I really want a picture. Please, I seriously love you. And I’m your biggest fan!”

  Charlie looks annoyed, trying to ignore his biggest fan.

  “You like burgers? I hear they have great burgers in the restaurant—”

  “Oh my God, I love burgers!” Blondie bounces up and down. “I could go with you if she doesn’t. She looks tired anyway, and I’m all ready to go.” She looks at me with sympathetic eyes, because apparently, I look too worn to keep his attention.

  I double roll my eyes now, taking in a deep breath. Point proven. This is why people’s expectations ruin lives. And also, why I know he is just pulling my chain. People like him don’t go for tired looking people like me.

  Charlie momentarily gives his attention to the girl. “Listen, I said I was kind of busy so—”

  “Oh em gee, you should totally go, Bates!” I chirp, just like blondie. I turn, fully facing both with a smile as fake as her tan. “You came at just the right time. He has been begging me to find him a blond bombshell like yourself. I bet you just love a good time, right? Get your fill of the oh so dreamy model.”

  She nods excitingly.

  “Great, well, perfect. Hurry and grab him so everyone else doesn’t scoop him up first.” Then I scream down the lobby hallway. “Charlie Bates is by the elevator and he’s super horny!” I catch the attention of a billion lurkers. As they all come flocking, he turns to me looking sullen. I give him the “I told you so” look just as the elevator door opens. And luckily, before he has a chance for any rebuttal, it closes.

  I’m on drink number, who cares? I just want to pretend I never met Charlie Bates. I want to go back to semi-hating relationships and go to bed considering lesbianism. Too many people in this world see a good-looking guy and think that’s what they want. That they are the perfect guy. No one looks at the average Joe anymore and says “wow, he’s my dream man.” And that is what is wrong with the world today.

  Charlie Bates might be a girl’s wet dream, but he is also a heart crusher of broken dreams. I mentally tell myself fuck him as I walk past our connecting room doors and bring the bottle to my lips. Just as I pass, the connecting door pops open, causing me to drop the vodka. I scream like a banshee when suddenly Charlie steps into my room.

  “What the fuck, Bates?” I gape at him in horror. “Dude, how the hell did you get that door open?”

  “I opened it last night when I left. I felt the rejection getting stronger, so I had to pull a wild card.”

  I stare at him in complete disbelief. “What rejection? You mean the fact that we have nothing in common or that I am totally not—”

  He’s on me instantly. He picks me up, slamming his mouth to mine. Carrying me over to the bed, he crawls us both up the mattress and lays me down, never taking his lips off mine.

  “Bates, what are you doing?” I ask between nips.

  “Showing you just how much I’m not your type.” He rips his mouth away from mine and attacks my neck. His teeth scrape the flesh, trailing kisses feverishly and marking my skin, until stopping just above my breastbone. God, his lips feel like silk gliding all over my skin. My body temperature has spiked tremendously and my hands go animalistic, claiming his hair.

  “Well, you’re doing a great job of it. You’re going to be disappointed, you know,” I moan as he pulls my tank top down, pressing his mouth to my bare flesh. Sucking my nipple into his mouth, my back arches, my hands putting pressure on the back of his head.

  “I bet I won’t,” he hums, biting down.

  “Oh God, you will. These are simple Cs, you know. They don’t grow or anything,” I say, wrapping my fingers tighter into his hair.

  “Good, I think they’re perfect. And I would be concerned if you had growing breasts.” He licks and moves to my other boob.

  I close my eyes, trying to enjoy this. I need this. I need a good release, and I know Mr. Walking Orgasm himself can easily give it to me.

  Working out my left tit, he releases it, traveling down my stomach. I instantly panic, grabbing his head again. “Seriously, no abs there, pal. Head back now.”

  He swats my hands away, and with his tongue, I feel the warmth of his mouth all the way down my stomach, past my navel, and to the lining of my shorts.

  “You’re soft and smooth, more for me to squeeze and slam into if you let me. Your skin smells like vanilla and innocence. And I want nothing more than to suck, and pinch, and devour it.”

  Well, fuck me. I close my eyes tightly as he hooks his fingers around my shorts and begins pulling them down. My inner battle to let him go farther down or to lift my feet and catapult him off me is going bonkers. He is going to not want you. Who cares! You are not his usual conquest. Let him get the job done. “Seriously, this is a bad ideaaaa…” I choke on my last word as his tongue strikes my center. Taking no mercy on me, he laps at my wetness, using his free hand to open my sex and suck on me. His tongue jabs in and out while his finger, his… “Oh God, maybe this was a good idea.” I throw my head back, moaning as his finger dips deep inside.

  “God, you taste like heaven,” he hums, licking and suckling while he works himself in and out of me. Working in a second finger, he thrusts his hand inside so deep I can feel his knuckles at my opening. “Fuck…” he grunts as his hand works faster, his tongue becoming more aggressive. The sensation is unexplainable. My eyes aren’t just closed; they’re rolled in the back of my head. I’m pretty sure I’ve bitten through my tongue and when I release Charlie’s hair, I’m going to have chunks of it in my nails. “Oh God, Bates, yes, oh God, I’m going to… I’m going, I’m…” Going to explode. And that is exactly what I do. I clench tightly around his fingers, wrapping my legs around his waist, while I go through an out of body experience.

  Yeah. That good.

  I haven’t even fully come down yet, before Charlie’s pulling back from me and abruptly standing. Pulling his shirt over his head, he tosses it to the floor. Seeing his chest for real is like a kid in a candy store. Cliché comparison, I know. But seriously, all I want to do right now is lick the shit out of his chest. Grabbing for his zipper, he thrusts it down and climbs out of his pants and briefs.

  “Jesus Christ, even your dick is perfect,” I hum, hoping that was said in my head and not out loud. His simple laugh proves otherwise, and all I want to do is cover my face. I do just that when the sound of foil tearing causes me to peek. Yep, the condom is in view. God, the way he slides that thing over his gorgeous cock, I may embarrassingly lick my lips. What am I doing? He is like the highest cut of filet, and I’m like leftover meatloaf. I begin to tense, thinking maybe this was a bad idea.

  “Get out of your fucking head, Swan. This is happening. And it’s happening because we are both into each other. Not because you’re better than me. Even though you are. I still want you and I hope you still want me.”

  He thinks I’m better than him? “You’re insane. You’re going to regret this,” I say, trying not to blush as he climbs on top of me, pushing my knees apart and working his way just where he wants to be.

  “Trust me. I would never regret anything that is with you, Bailey Swan,” he says, dipping down and taking my lips against his. He kisses me with intent. As if this is the only place he wants to be. And goddammit, I feel it. That, in this moment, this is the only place I ever want to be. Under this man while he ravishes me. Oh God, I’m being ravished! My heart does a little leap, and then stops beating altogether because it freaks itself out.

  “Any more arguments out of you, Bailey Swan, before I show you just how perfect we can be together?”

  Nothing but honesty shines in his beautiful green eyes. For some odd reas
on, I trust him. I shake my head, a small smile breaching my face.

  “Thank God. Now be prepared to be convinced.” He smiles and thrusts into me.

  I’ll admit I haven’t had sex in a little bit. Okay, like over a year. But it’s like riding a bike. You just never forget. The way his silky cock slides inside, the feeling of being filled comes right back. The sensations of friction consuming. My eyes close, but his hand around the side of my neck causes them to reopen.

  “Eyes open, Bailey. I want to watch those beautiful eyes as they gloss over in the realization we should have been doing this days ago.” He bends down and presses a kiss to my lips as he pulls out and slides back in. “Then I’m going to require you to beg for forgiveness on what you’ve been missing out on all week long—”

  I go to smack him, but he pulls out and this time, with more aggression, slams into me. My hand drops and my head falls back, a throaty moan flowing past my lips. God, he feels so good. Each thrust, each kiss, the continuous soft grunts escaping up his throat. He handles my body as if he already has me memorized. Every piece of my skin tingles from his touch. His hand roams down my neck, to my breasts, my hips, and finally begins squeezing my ass.

  “Fuck, this feels good,” I confess, slowly working my hips to meet his. My hands are locked in his hair once again, a place I have quickly learned to love. I bring his mouth down onto mine and kiss him with the feverish lust that’s blasting through me. Our tongues collide as we fight for closeness, his hips starting to move at a quicker pace, his thrusts less controlled and more erratic.

  “I told you this was going to be a good idea,” he grunts into my mouth, lifting his hips and diving deep inside. My head drops back against the pillow, allowing him access to feast on my neck. His lips, wet and smooth against my hot skin. “God, Bailey. So fucking tight.” He nips at my skin, his hand grabbing at my breast and squeezing. Each touch and sensation push me closer to the edge. I won’t be able to hang on much longer before I go flying.