Flawlessly Broken: (Broken Series Book 2) (16 page)

WE ENDED UP
at one of my favorite lunch spots, a deli located a few blocks from my office that had the absolute best sandwiches and homemade soups in the city. After leaving the counter with our order, we settled into a small booth near the front window. The midday sun streamed through the glass and set her golden hair aglow. It looked like a halo.

“So, are you and Clay even now?” She asked, sampling her soup and nodding in approval.

“I’d say I owe him some sort of retaliation, to be honest. Not only did he mangle my tux, he turned Gran loose on me. That was one step too far in my book. One or the other would have been sufficient payback. To do both was just him being a dick.” I pulled some of the bread from my sandwich and dipped it in my soup. I’d opted for tomato today, foregoing my usual French onion in deference to my companion. Just in case.

She’d ordered a half sandwich and loaded potato soup. I loved a girl who wasn’t afraid of a carb or two.

She took a bite of her sandwich, a turkey club on wheat, and nodded as she chewed. “Maybe you’re right. It did seem like he was getting too much pleasure out of the whole thing. Ali told me about his little plan for you and I knew I couldn’t leave you to twist in the wind.” She chuckled, spooning up a bit of soup. “Was she there when you got there?”

“Oh, yeah. From start to finish. Hell, she even got a long look of me in my damn boxers. The guy did my initial measurements in only my underwear and then found the tux with the closest measurements for me to try. She stood right there for the whole thing like she was overseeing a two year old.”

Talia giggled, earning a scathing look from me as she said, “From the way your jaw is clenching, I’d say Clay better be on the lookout for some payback.”

I grunted and took a bite of my sandwich, chewing way harder than necessary.

She reached across and touched my hand. “Instead of being angry, look at it like this, if Clay hadn’t been tormenting you, I never would have come today.”

I relaxed a bit and looked her over. “I plan to show my appreciation by making you come some more, if you’d like to accompany me back to my place.” I wiggled my brows and gave her a megawatt smile.

She took a long swallow of her ice water, never breaking eye contact. “Sounds like a plan. I never did get that beard ride I was craving the other day.”

“Finish your lunch, sweetheart, you’re going to need the energy.”

Talia

WELL, THIS WAS
more than I’d anticipated when I made the drive to Richmond.

We laid on our backs, staring at the ceiling and trying to catch our breath. My muscles were already deliciously sore and my limbs were limp as noodles. I’d never in my life experienced anything as explosive as Spencer Erickson between the sheets. Between my thighs. From above. From below. From behind.

We’d covered a lot of ground in the two hours since we arrived at his house. And we’d probably be covering even more after a brief intermission.

The burn left from his beard tingled across my thighs. Visions of him in his tux made me want to mount his face. Again. Was it possible to be fucked to death? I had no idea, but I wasn’t shying away at the possibility. What a way to go...

He shifted beside me, turning to face me and draping an arm across my stomach. “I don’t have any Scotch here, sweetheart, but I’m sure I could find something suitable if you’d like a drink.” His fingers dug into my side, tickling me playfully.

I wiggled beneath the weight of his arm and laughed. “No, thank you. I have to drive home in a couple hours. Water would be great, though.” I gave him a peck on the mouth.

“You don’t have to go anywhere. I’d like nothing more than to keep you in this bed for the rest of the week.” He possessively cupped my sex. “There’s so much we haven’t had a chance to explore.” He dipped a finger inside me, lazily stroking in and out.

This man was a bad influence. I had to stand firm. “Just because you have another ten days off doesn’t mean everyone else has that luxury. I missed a lot of time at the restaurant and I’m still playing catch up.” He gave me a disappointed look and sucked my juices from his finger, watching me intently to gauge my reaction.

“You don’t play fair, Spencer,” I grumbled, eyes glued to his mouth. “I’d stay if I could. How about you come up to see me Friday? You can check out the restaurant. I’ll feed you there and then take you home with me so I can feed you again.”

He leaned in and pulled my nipple into his mouth, aggressively pulling it between his teeth. I hissed in pain and moaned with pleasure at the same time.

“Fine, but I still have you for at least two hours.” He licked my nipple quickly and climbed out of bed, headed for the kitchen. “I’ll be sure to bring a big glass of water. Your throat will be raw from screaming my name by the time I’m done with you.”

There was a pulsing between my legs. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I called, tossing his words back at him.

“I don’t threaten, sweetheart, I make promises.”

WHEN IT WAS
nearly time to leave, we grudgingly climbed from Spencer’s massive, king-size bed and got dressed. I gave it one last, longing look as I walked out of the room and made my way down the hall. Spencer was right behind me, a sulking expression on his face. It was kind of cute the way he was pouting.

His house was surprisingly normal. A moderately-sized ranch-style tucked away at the end of a cul-de-sac. He had a large, detached garage beside the house and a single-car attached garage where he’d insisted I park. I could tell it was where the Chevelle was usually kept. I’d been somehow touched by the gesture, stupid as that sounded. I knew how men were with their cars.

The interior of the house was well-decorated—probably by a professional since not everything in the home seemed to suit Spencer. Then again, it was possible that the odd pieces were leftovers from his ex.

I hadn’t thought of that.

The idea rankled, but I had no idea why. I had no right to feel possessive. He wasn’t mine or anything. We were just having a little fun together. After another week or two, he will be back to working eighty hours a week and it would all be over.

So why did I care if he kept some of her things?

I found myself drawn to a row of shelves near the kitchen doorway, family photos and trinkets artfully scattered over each one. There were framed pictures of Spencer with his parents, whose features mingled beautifully in his own. He had his father’s dark hair and his mother’s dark eyes. Such an amazing configuration of traits.

Two stunning people who created an even more amazing child.

Spencer’s sister looked like him, as well.

I pointed to a picture of the whole family and waited for him to step over, standing behind me with his hands grasping my hips. “I take it that dark-haired beauty is your sister the shrink.”

He snickered behind me. “That’s her. Most annoying, overachieving, amazing sister in the world.” He kissed the top of my head. “Maybe you’ll get a chance to meet her sometime. She’s living in New York these days but she tries to bring the kids back home over the summer to visit my folks.”

I was touched that he was so nonchalant about me meeting his family, as if it was the most natural development in the world.

Would they like me?

Had they liked Ivey?

Apparently, that second question wasn’t internal because Spencer tensed behind me.

Shit.

I turned in his arms and looked up at him. “I’m sorry. It was just a passing thought. I didn’t mean to actually ask that. Don’t answer.”

He shook his head, still looking over my head at the framed family photo. “No, it’s okay.” A big breath whooshed out of him and he furrowed his brow. “I honestly don’t know if they ever really liked Ivey. They were cordial and accepting but I think that was more for my benefit than anything.”

He looked down at me and gave a lopsided grin. “I think I can safely say my mom didn’t mourn the dissolution of my marriage. She was in here the day after Ivey moved out, redecorating and helping me get rid of anything she ever touched. New furniture, new bed, new dining table, everything.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Actually, you’re the first woman to lie in that bed with me.”

Knowing that made me long for just a few more hours to spend in it with him. Dammit. He was deliberately making it harder for me to leave.

I rose up on my tiptoes and kissed his lips. “I’m honored, Spencer. And I’d love to join you there again but it will have to be another time. I really do have to get back.”

His disappointment was obvious as he followed me toward the door. “Did they give you the third degree when you went back to work?” He was twirling a strand of my hair in his fingers, watching it curl like it was the most fascinating thing ever.

“No. They know not to ask too many questions. Most of them assumed I had the flu, so I let them continue thinking that. Easier.” I shrugged.

“Any more appearances from Derek?”

He said the name like it tasted foul on his lips. Maybe I wasn’t the only one battling a little possessiveness.

“Not a peep, thank goodness. The day hostess said he stopped by at the end of last week looking for me and she told him I had taken some time off. He left and hasn’t been back.” I blew out a breath and forcibly relaxed my shoulders. “He’ll be back, though. He’s still handling the magazine article, so I’ll have to deal with him eventually.”

Spencer leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips, chasing away the frown I’d been wearing. “You can handle him, I know you can. Don’t let him push your buttons. Keep your distance. And if you need some stress relief, I’d be happy to push some of your other buttons any time you’d like.”

We spent the next several minutes kissing in the foyer, getting each other worked up all over again.

Finally, I had to pull away or risk being late to the restaurant. I despised tardiness, but damn, I wanted a few more minutes with those lips. He was good—extremely good—at everything, but his kisses were so heart-stopping that I’d been dreaming about them every night since he left.

I gave him one final peck and turned to leave.

“I meant what I said. Use me to de-stress, sweetheart. Don’t go back to the Scotch. I didn’t like seeing you like that and I don’t ever want you to do that again, understand? I don’t care if he does show up. You call me and leave the booze in the cabinet.” His expression brooked no argument. “I’ll be at the restaurant Friday at eight and I’ll know if you disobeyed.”

Bossy bastard. I couldn’t decide whether to cuss him out or drop to my knees. Infuriating. “And what happens if I disobey?” I put just enough emphasis on the word to let him hear my annoyance. “You gonna cut me off?”

He chuckled deep in his throat. “Why would I want to punish myself? If I don’t fuck you at all, we both suffer. But,” he grinned mischievously, “If I fuck you all night without letting you come, which of us loses?”

And with that, I was officially off the booze.

Bastard.

Gorgeous, bossy, impossible bastard.

I STEWED ABOUT
his ultimatum all the way home.