Flawlessly Broken: (Broken Series Book 2) (20 page)

I came so hard I saw spots. Black orbs started at the edges of my vision and rapidly multiplied until I thought I would pass out. I was on fire, burning alive and I wanted it to go on forever. The orgasm lasted longer than any I’d ever had and when it was over, there were actual tears streaking down the sides of my face. They ran straight across my temples and into my hair before I could swipe them away. I was astounded that they’d been there at all.

I remember reading somewhere that the French term for orgasm translated to something like ‘the little death.’ I never truly appreciated the accuracy of that description until just then.
La petite mort,
indeed.

Spencer nuzzled my thigh and gave my ass a final squeeze before starting to stand, stretching my legs back toward the ceiling as he stood. Just before he’d reached his full height he paused, an unfathomable look on his face. He glanced at me and back down before schooling his features, the strange look disappearing.

I crinkled my forehead in worry. “What? Did we damage the leather or something?”

His chuckle seemed forced. “No, but I think that would be a good excuse to give the staff when you have to explain why one of them is missing. Tell them there was a rip or something and it’s being repaired.” He wiggled his brows suggestively.

“And what would I want to do that for?”

He helped me up, grinning when a head rush caused me to place a hand on his chest for balance. “Because we’re taking one of these to your apartment with us tonight.”

I looked up at him to find that panty-dropping smile.

Damn right, we were.

Talia

WE ARRIVED AT
my apartment a short while later after walking by a disinterested, sleepy-looking Stony in the lobby and getting a curious look from the woman in 5A who shared the elevator with us and our single bar stool. It was kind of comical, actually. She’d done her best not to make eye contact with Spencer while sneaking peeks at both him and the stool. He’d caught her twice and given her a shit-eating grin each time, making her blush.

If she’d had any idea what we’d just been doing on that stool, she’d have probably fainted.

Spencer placed it right in the middle of the living room like he was planting a flag on the moon, grinning to himself the entire time.

He was an enigma. One minute he was stern and protective and the next he was smiling and playful. I couldn’t decide which I liked more. The problem was, I liked both sides of him. A lot. Probably more than was practical.

And that scared me.

The playful, flirty Spencer stood in my living room and crooked a finger at me, calling me to him as he mischievously patted the soft leather seat. “Come here, sweetheart. There’s something I want to show you.”

I arched a brow and crossed to him. “Gee, I wonder what that could be...” I trailed off and started to tug at the button on his jeans, not really trying to take them off—he hadn’t told me to yet—but liking the lightheartedness of the moment. His commanding side turned me on but his boyish, charming side was what kept pulling me back to him. If he was always in bossy mode, I’d end up resenting it. He was the ideal balance of sweet and sexy.

The perfect combination to break a girl’s heart, if she wasn’t careful to keep it tucked safely away.

I stood beside the seat and waited for him to tell me what he wanted, watching in anticipation for the transformation from Sweet Spence to Sex-God Spence. I’d never been quick enough to catch the transition.

Instead of going all bossy, he reached up and ran a hand through my hair, smiling fondly.

That smile. I adored that smile.

“Talia, I wasn’t referring to anything sexual. What I want to show you will change some things for you, maybe it will help somehow. It’s something I never thought I’d say or do, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

There was a pleading in his voice that I hadn’t heard before, making him sound vulnerable. Did I trust him? “I trust you completely, Spencer. Show me.” I meant it. I really did, which went against every promise I’d made to myself in the last ten years. And I didn’t care. If I was going to go back on my promise, Spencer Erickson was the only one I knew who was worth the risk.

He blew out a big breath. “Do you have your phone on you?”

I ran over to grab it from my purse and returned to my previous spot beside the bar stool. “I do now.”

“Put in the code to unlock it and activate the camera.”

I did as he asked and looked up at him for further instructions, not understanding what was going on but not questioning him.

“Now, hand me the phone and strip. Take everything off and lean over the bar stool with your ass in the air facing me.”

The sound of my soft gasp made him purse his lips, as if waiting for my refusal.

Instead, I slowly removed every stitch of clothing and leaned over the seat, just as he asked. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t freaked out by the situation but I couldn’t balk without making him think I didn’t trust him. Whatever he was doing, he was apprehensive about it, I’d seen as much on his face. I wasn’t about to make it worse by refusing him.

The leather covering was cold on my belly and kind of squished my boobs until I adjusted my stance. I was very aware of the view I was giving him. The same view the camera would have, I presumed. I threaded my hands through the foot rest bars and grabbed the lowest one, bracing myself in more ways than one.

He stepped close and ran his hand over my back, speaking softly. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life, Talia. Inside and out.” I could hear his every movement, including the hard swallow before he spoke again. “As much as I’d like to put this exquisite position to use, that’s not why I have you here like this.” He moved from my side to stand behind me, trailing his hand down my lower back before dropping it to the back of my thigh, near where my ass met my leg. He brushed his fingers over the spot repeatedly before placing a soft kiss there and retreating. I heard the sound of my phone capturing a photo—just once—and his hand was back on the spot, softly skimming the area with his fingers.

After a moment he cleared his throat and moved away. “Okay, you can stand now.”

I did, turning to cast a questioning look at him.

He said nothing, pulling me along behind him as he made his way down the hall toward my bedroom, flipping on the light as he entered and walking over to my dressing mirror. It was floor length and stood in an antique frame that swiveled and tilted to allow the perfect angle.

I stopped a few feet short of him and furrowed my brow. “What is it? Why the mirror if you took a picture?”

“Just a hunch,” he said, not the least bit sarcastic. He held the phone up and typed in the code to unlock it, causing me to raise a brow. “I know, I know. If I remembered the code, why did I ask you to unlock it earlier, right?”

I nodded.

“Because I needed you to have the control. I needed the decision to trust me to be entirely yours.” He rolled his lips under his teeth, as if deciding on how to continue. “I want you to know that I have never taken a photo like that of another woman and until about an hour ago, the thought would never have even entered my mind.”

“An hour ago?” I was confused.

He walked over and skimmed the back of his hand over my exposed collar bone, making me shiver. “I also haven’t ever pointed out a flaw to a woman before. As a general rule, I don’t focus on imperfections. I’m more of a glass half-full kind of guy.” He leaned in and captured my mouth in a smoldering kiss before holding the phone out for me to take.

I plucked it from his palm without looking at it, something in his expression telling me he had more to say. I was right.

He nodded to the phone, his voice uneven. “I didn’t know how else to show you. I mean, if you hadn’t seen it before now it was because you couldn’t. This was the best way I could think of to tell you.”

My heart was thudding in my chest. What the hell was he talking about? “Tell me what, Spencer? You’re freaking me out here. Just spill it.”

His voice was barely a whisper when he pointed to the phone. “Look, sweetheart. See for yourself.”

I blew out a frustrated breath and lifted the phone, eyes locking on the photo. My eyes skittered across the image and I sucked in a shocked breath.

Is that?

Wait, how can that be?

There’s no way that’s right.

No matter how much my mind argued against it, it was clear as day on the screen.

A silvery, purple stretch mark, probably no longer than an inch.

And it was on
me.

Tears sprung to my eyes and I looked up in astonishment. “This is really me?”

Spencer swallowed thickly and nodded. “She left her mark after all.”

The giggle that escaped me echoed through the room as I scurried over to the mirror, turning this way and that trying to get a good look at it for myself. I couldn’t see it, dammit. No matter how I turned, I just couldn’t see her tiny imprint but I was still giggling just the same.

Spencer was too, though his eyes shone with what I suspected were unshed tears. “Try leaning forward a bit and twisting around. When you stand up straight, it’s hidden in the fold beneath your butt.”

I was seriously wishing for Gina’s contortionist abilities when I finally caught sight of the tiny purple mark. The photo was closer and clearer than what I saw from this vantage point but something about being able to verify it for myself made it more real.

I jumped up from my ridiculous position and leapt into Spencer’s arms, laughing and crying at the same time. I kissed his face all over, from his forehead to his eyelids to the tip of his nose. “Thank you, Spencer. Thank you so much for showing me this. I never would have known if you hadn’t.” I kissed him some more as we both giggled.

“So, can I tell you you’re perfect now without it upsetting you?” He teased.

I managed to grab a handful of his beard—not easy since he kept it so short—and tugged, grinning. “I’m not perfect and I have the scar to prove it.”

“You earned that scar, baby, so it’s not a flaw, right?”

“Right.”

“Then I’ll forgo the word perfect and opt for flawless. Deal? And before you argue, just know that to me you are both. So it’s your call but you have to let me have one of them.” He smirked.

“Fine, you can use flawless. I’ll take it as an affirmation that my stretch mark is a gift not a scar but don’t overuse it, buster. I don’t want to regret giving in on this.”

He laughed. “I’d take you more seriously if you weren’t laughing the entire time you were talking. You can’t be giggly and intimidating at the same time.”

“You’d definitely know about the intimidation part, wouldn’t you?” I really couldn’t stop laughing. My grin was so big my face hurt, and that made me grin even wider. When was the last time I’d had a cheek ache from smiling? I couldn’t remember.

“I’m not intimidating, chuckles. I’m just assertive.” He cupped my bare ass and tugged me against him. “And as I recall, you respond very well.”

I hooked a leg around his waist and ground myself against him. “I’m not going to argue with you on that one. As a matter of fact, I’m finding myself wanting to respond again already. Interested?”

He palmed my ass and lifted me up until my legs were wrapped around him. Turning toward the bed, he pulled my lower lip into his mouth and sucked on it before leaning his forehead to mine. “For future reference, you never have to ask that question. Where you are concerned, sweetheart, I’m always interested.”

WE MADE LOVE
four times that night, not settling in with the intention to sleep until nearly dawn. I fell asleep draped across his chest with him tracing small circles on my back with his fingers.

I was the most content I’d been in years and slept a deep, dreamless sleep.

When I awakened the next morning, Spencer was nowhere in sight but the smell of freshly brewed coffee gave me a good indication where I might find him. I grabbed my robe off the hook on the back of the closet door but didn’t put it on until I’d done my bend and twist in front of the mirror to take another look at my stretch mark.