Love Broken Page 5

  “I’m not going to last much longer,” I moan, moving my hands from his wild mane and bringing them to his tight ass. He groans immediately and flips us, putting himself on his back, while I find myself sitting up and riding him. The deepness he reaches is fucking amazing. I sway back and forth, riding his cock, my eyes unable to stay open. His rough grip is so tight on my hips, I know I’m going to have bruises. With his hands so close to my center he takes his thumb and begins rubbing at my clit, and I know I can’t hold on any longer. “Oh God, Bates, I’m gonna—”

  He flips us again.

  “You gotta hold on, Bailey. I’m not even close to being done with you.” He offers me his wicked smile and pulls out. The sexual frustration is clear across my face because my orgasm is at the tip of my fucking vagina and it wants out. He takes my body and flips me onto my stomach, lifting my hips up so I kneel on my hands and knees.

  “I knew you’d look so beautiful like this,” he says, smoothing his fingers along the crease of my butt. “Your pale skin, smooth to the touch, sweet to the taste.” He bends down, placing his lips just above my tailbone and both hands wrap around my ass cheeks. Removing his right hand, he brings it to my neck, brushing my hair aside. “I’m gonna need you to hang on, baby. I’m not sure I can go slow anymore with you like this.” His cock finds my entrance and with how slick I am, he eagerly slides right in. We moan in unison, the awareness of how good it feels. Being so deep, he begins to move in and out, a thin layer of sweat building between us.

  I don’t remember sex ever being this good, and thank God, I gave in. My body clenches around him. He can feel me sucking him up because he picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming brutal. In and out he slams into me, his balls slapping against the back of my clit. He unexpectedly grabs for my hair, wrapping it around his fist. With a gentle tug, he pulls my head back far enough so his lips can reach mine.

  And that’s when I explode.

  I moan furiously into his mouth as I squeeze around his dick and come, my orgasm practically knocking the wind out of me. As I begin to come down, he releases my mouth and his fingers dig into my hips. “Fuck. God, fuck, fuck…” He repeats once, twice, and on the third pound inside me, he lets go.

  Falling on top of me, we both fight to process what the fuck just happened, along with trying to catch our breath.

  “Holy shit, you’re like a fucking goddess. Jesus,” Charlie states, out of breath as he begins spreading kiss after kiss to the back of my shoulder.

  Feeling like I just released a century’s worth of built up aggression, I inhale a huge breath of air. “I think I may sleep for a week after that,” I reply and close my eyes, ready to get that sleep going, but Charlie is up and once again flipping me. I’m on my back, and before I can react or discuss the effects of whiplash from all the damn flipping, he’s grabbing at my ankles and pulling me down the mattress. Dropping to his knees, he spreads my legs.

  “I’m nowhere near done with you, Bailey Swan. Sleep is a long time away.” And he wraps his mouth around my pulsing lips and goes to town.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “Katie, are you in there? Seriously! This isn’t funny.”

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “I swear if you left without even giving me notice, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  “Someone needs to tell that woman she has the wrong room.” A deep voice sounds in my ear as warm hands curl around my waist, bringing me back into something hard.

  Hard…

  Charlie Bates, hard.

  I stifle a soft purr and find myself snuggling further into his hold. He’s still in my room. And damn, I feel like I’ve slept for days. Maybe this was a good idea.

  “Seriously, Katie, I know you’re in there. I called the front desk and you haven’t checked out! It’s already a quarter past eleven and the signing’s already started and I have a mob waiting for you. Don’t do this to me.”

  A quarter past eleven? Huh?

  I open my eyes, and when the bright red numbers come into view—

  “Shit!” I swear, throwing my head back, accidentally head-butting Charlie in the face. “Dude! Shit! We’re late! We overslept. Get up!” I jump out of bed and realize I’m naked. “Shit!” I turn, bending forward and trying to cover myself.

  “I think I saw all your secret hiding places last night. No need to hide from me now.”

  “Ugh,” I grunt, realizing he’s right, and go in search of my underwear. Finding a pair under the bed, I hop on one foot to the next, trying to get them on. “Seriously, Bates, get up! Kristen is going to kill us.”

  He finally hops out of bed, his fucking morning wood about to poke his own eye out, and leisurely goes in search of his own clothes.

  “Katie, please!”

  Shit, stop calling me Katie!

  “Kristen! It’s Bailey! I’m up! So sorry! I’ll be down in ten minutes!”

  Charlie comes up behind me, wrapping his hand around my lower waist and pressing his lips to the back of my neck. I stop for a second and lean into his hold, until I realize what the fuck I’m doing and push him away.

  “Seriously, Bates, get dressed and out of here.”

  His laughter’s getting on my nerves. “Wow, I never expected you as a love ’em and leave ’em kind of girl. I’m wounded.”

  I want to turn around and punch him, but the knocking on the door interrupts that.

  “Dude, let me in. I’ll help you get ready faster.” Kristen bangs again on the door.

  Shit! She cannot see Charlie in my room.

  “Dude, you gotta go. Seriously. Back where you came from, buddie.” I bend down, grabbing his shirt and tossing it at him. Grabbing his shoulders, I push him toward the connecting door.

  “Katie, seriously, let me in!”

  “Who’s Katie?”

  “I have no idea, now shoo, get out—”

  Charlie quickly turns, catching me off balance. Dropping his shirt, he lifts me up, pivoting and pressing my back against the wall. Slamming his mouth on mine, he kisses me like a fucking champ. His tongue dives into my mouth. I instantly moan, wrapping my fingers up and into his hair.

  “KATIE!”

  And then I pull really tightly.

  “Shit! That hurts.”

  “Good, put me down and get out!” Finally, he does what I ask. I pick his shirt up and toss it into his room. Just before I close the door, I say, “You were great, but this never happened.” And I slam it in his face.

  Fuck me.

  Fuck awesome sex.

  My body might feel like jello after my all-night workout, but my mind is tense and in fucking knots. What the hell did I do? I mean, I know what I did, but why him? Why did I let some hot model get in my bed and in my head? I could have worked out my aggression on the damn battery-operated toy I brought. Or a normal Joe hanging out at the bar. Why him?

  I shuffle the laminated postcards for the ninth time, trying to distract myself from witnessing the catastrophe happening across the room. The signing is in full swing and every time I glance his way I catch him smiling at a girl, offering her that stupid quirky smile he gives me. And every time he catches me looking, he gives me that damn wink. I’m seconds away from punching that wink off his face. I’m just mad at myself for letting him sucker me. It’s like I became just another one of those foolish fans who swoon over the sexy perfection of Charlie Bates. And fuck me, he is sexy. Everything about him is. His voice, his hair, his smile, his gorgeous cock! Ugh!!! And I fell for it. I’m sure he’s had his publicist change his room already so he doesn’t have to have any awkward run-ins with me and can move on to another sucker.

  I take a break from my fans and excuse myself. I need a time-out. I head to the bathroom to splash some water on my face to relax, wishing I was pouring some vodka down my throat instead. “It’s fine. Everyone makes mistakes—”

  “Who you talking to?”

  I twist to my right to see Charlie walking into the women’s bathroom. “Dude, get out of here. Last I che
cked you don’t have a vagina.”

  He doesn’t stop, though. He comes at me, pressing my back against the sink.

  “I hope not, but you do, and I can’t stop thinking about it.” Both hands wrap around my face and he kisses me. He doesn’t ask for an invitation, he just takes, his mouth devouring mine.

  A strange spark in my chest rattles me and I don’t like it. I push him off me, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “Seriously, Bates. That was a one-time thing. You know it and I know it. We are complete opposites.”

  “And opposites attract.” He smiles, coming at me again.

  I dodge his mouth and move out from his grip.

  “I’m being serious. Don’t feel like you owe me anything ’cause we, uh, well, whatever we did last night.”

  “You mean sex? Hot, passionate, nail biting, sweating, name screaming—”

  “Oh God, I get it, yes! But we’re done. I don’t even like you.”

  His smile widens, and it only pisses me off more.

  “Really? Because last night I think you told me you loved me.”

  I freeze, nervous I may have said something by mistake in the heat of the moment.

  “You told me how much you loved my tongue, the way it swirled around your pulsing clit—”

  I punch him.

  I clearly need him to stop talking. So, I punch him. I mean, not hard ’cause I’m a wimp, but enough to catch him off guard. I think I stunned us both, but before either one of us can react, I take off.

  Fuck these weird feelings.

  Fuck Charlie Bates’ tongue.

  Charlie fucking Bates does not listen.

  At all.

  He didn’t take a hint that I wasn’t into him, or my threatening assault, because like clockwork, he comes to my door with that damn pizza. And, like the other nights, I don’t answer. But unlike me, Charlie fucking Bates has sex appeal and somehow gets the maid to open our connecting door.

  And he doesn’t care I’m lying in bed, or that I’m staring at him about to punch him for a second time. He simply tosses the pizza on the floor and starts taking off his shirt! My mouth is hanging open, shocked at the way he thinks he can just come in here and get what he wants, is appalling to me! Even when he crawls up my bed and starts spreading kisses up my legs, tugging me out of my pajama shorts, you know what I do? I LET HIM!

  I hate Charlie Bates.

  I hate that, for another night, I allow him to take me to a whole other level of orgasm. I allow him to toss me against the wall and fuck me like I’ve never been fucked before, until he has me screaming his name. He takes me in the shower while using the shower head to clean me off, and then get me off, before fucking me until his name is pure whispers on my hoarse throat. And when he’s done drying me, he lays me on the bed and fucking talks to me! He talks to me and tells me about himself. Personal stuff I want to scratch out of my memory because he’s making himself less the model and more a real person with real views and aspirations and making me realize just how much I misjudged him.

  He just wouldn’t stop.

  But strangely, I also wasn’t stopping him.

  “That’s my mom. My sisters and I surprised her for her sixtieth birthday. As you can see, that’s where I get my dashing smile from.” He offers me a sample, showing his perfect set of teeth.

  I decide not to mention he has oregano in his front tooth because, let’s be honest, I need a reason to fault him and I’m starting to struggle to find one. We’re sitting on my bed facing one another Indian style, with an open box of pizza separating us. He’s been swiping for the past thirty minutes, giving me a photo breakdown of each picture on his phone. “This is Ellie, my dog. I’ll have to be honest right off the bat, she’s my one true love. So, any girl”—he wiggles his brows at me—“would have to settle for being number two.”

  I take another huge bite of gooey goodness. “You have a weird fetish and plan on marrying a dog. Got it.”

  He reaches over and nudges me, causing me to let out a laugh. Embarrassingly, I spit out a piece of pizza in the process.

  “Oops,” I say wiping at my jeans.

  “Here, let me get that.” With his thumb, he gently wipes the smeared pizza sauce off my chin. His movement is slow. He doesn’t need to take this long. Our eyes catch. “You shouldn’t waste pizza like that. It’s a written rule.” His thumb brushes along my bottom lip. I’ve gone mute, no sly comeback ready to fall from my mouth. His finger is slow and calculated as it slides with ease across my lip, smearing the excess sauce. I’m frozen in place, completely unsure of what to do. My heartrate is picking up. His touch is lethal, and even more so are his searing eyes as they calculate what I’m thinking. What am I thinking? That pizza sauce has never been such a turn on.

  “There.” He pulls his finger away from my mouth. Hopefully not because I looked like I was about to chomp it off. “Simple lick of the lips and nothing’s gone to waste.”

  I fight. And I fight. I tell myself not to do it. But it’s impossible. I do it.

  I lick my lips.

  And it is the hottest lick of pizza sauce I have ever tasted.

  “Jesus, I, uh, I’ll be right back. I need to use the bathroom real quick.”

  Charlie is up and doing a poor job of hiding the bulge in his pants. Almost falling off the bed trying to throw his legs down, he stumbles to the bathroom, shutting the door and instantly runs the faucet.

  When he finally comes back looking less strained, he suckers me into talking about myself. I tell him about the bar, about the book, and about Gerdie, my bird. He tells me Ellie and Gerdie would get along great if they ever met and then he tells me how he got into cover modeling on a whim.

  The more this went on, the more I found myself letting him in. And I wasn’t sure if I loved it or hated it. Each night, the small talk got longer. Deeper. He was sharing story after story, whereas I found myself doing the same. It was as if we were becoming something more than just what we were. And what the hell were we? I just didn’t want to fool myself. Become that statistic I’ve spent half my life fighting against. Charlie Bates was perfect. I was just, well, me.

  I knew we’d never work outside our little hotel room bubble. And that was just a fact. I don’t even know why I bother even thinking about that. It’s not like we’ve spoken a single word about us, or what happens in two days when the signing is over and we go our separate ways. And maybe it’s better that way.

  Maybe I’m just trying to mask the real issue here, which is that I’ve fallen for someone like Charlie. But have I fallen for him? He’s hot, and damn does he know what to do with his hands, his tongue, and his golden dick, but still. That’s sexual. It’s probably just me latching on to something I have never really had before.

  But with Charlie it’s not only sex, it’s also friendship. He’s like an endless pit of conversation. He doesn’t just get up and leave once we’re done. He stays, and I can’t believe I’m using the word, but cuddles! He continues to tell me stories about his friends, his work, and his family. His likes and dislikes. And there I am right next to him sharing the same stuff. It’s like we know each other on a whole deeper level.

  And I don’t know whether that scares me, excites me, or pisses me off. Because in two days, I go home. And then what? Am I that thick-skinned girl who came here saying I could just take a dip on the wild side and walk away unfazed?

  I don’t think I can.

  And that’s why I need to cut ties and leave.

  We’re finishing up our last night on the tour. Our final author dinner is tonight, and then once we wrap up our promo interviews in the morning, we are free to go. I’ve tried to avoid Charlie all day because I just want to make it easier on myself when we go our separate ways. I know he’s catching on because his smile isn’t fully reaching his eyes. The first postcard that came my way, said, “What’s wrong, Swan?” When I tossed that in the garbage, the next one came. “Do you want me to turn that frown upside down tonight?” Another one tossed.

&nbs
p; The next one was a drawing of a stick figure—two stick figures may I add—and it looked like they were doing the spider on a swing set. Okay, fine, he got me there. I smiled and turned to him, giving him the “really?” look. His return smile, of course, was infectious, and I settled to just let it go. Let us have our last night.

  We’ve been at dinner for over two hours now, which finally seems to be wrapping up. Charlie chose to sit exactly across from me, I’m sure to mess with me the whole time. Kristen is next to me, which doesn’t help since she keeps catching his googly eyes at me.

  “Is there something going on between you and Charlie Bates?” She leans in, whispering.

  I give her my best ‘pfft’ face. “Ew. No, why? Like I’m even his type.”

  She looks at me, but I refuse to look back. “Well, for starters he keeps staring at you like you’re tonight’s dessert.”

  I lift my head, making the mistake of looking at Charlie, and of course he winks at me and offers up that damn fucking smile. Turning away, I lift my hand, catching the waitress for another drink. “First off. I have no idea what’s wrong with that guy. Maybe he has Tourette’s. Facial twitching. Probably from all that fake smiling he does all day.”

  Kristen doesn’t seem to accept my answer, continuing, “It’s just… kinda strange how you both were missing the other day and not to mention you two during the signing. Are you sure there’s not something you want to tell me?”

  I take a sip of my current drink, looking anywhere but in front of me and next to me. Too bad I look to the other side, which is some knock-out blonde pulling her shirt down, trying to get Charlie’s attention.

  I sigh.

  Then groan.

  Then slam the rest of my drink.

  I can’t take much more of Kristen’s interrogation, Charlie’s googly eyes, or the thunder cat next to me. I get up, startling the girl next to me. I turn to Kristen. “Sorry, I’m just really tired and I need to pack. I’ll catch you tomorrow before my interviews to say goodbye.” I lean in and give my longtime friend a hug, who’s now also confused by my abrupt exit, and before Charlie can nonchalantly try and stop me, I take off.