Flawlessly Broken: (Broken Series Book 2) (24 page)

When she was gone, I stood with my hands in my pockets and watched as Derek finished loading his things into his briefcase. He kept his head down, not brave enough to antagonize me without an audience. “Just say whatever it is you want to say so I can get out of here.” She’d hurt his pride and he wanted to run off to lick his wounds.

He’d be getting no sympathy from me.

“Why now?”

He shrugged, still not meeting my eye. “Ten years of kicking myself for being stupid. Not wanting to spend the next ten years that way.”

“Because you still love her or because you feel guilty for abandoning her?”

His head jerked up and he narrowed his eyes. “I was nineteen. I made a mistake.”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo. She was nineteen, too. And
raped.
” He flinched as if I’d struck him. “And
pregnant.
And
terrified.
And in love with a moron who called her a cheater and a liar then left her to fend for herself when she went to him for support.”

“Shit. She really told you all that?” He ran a hand over his reddish-brown hair, looking sick.

I nodded, fighting the impulse to bash his fucking face in. How dare he make excuses? “She really told me all that. Want to know what else she told me? How she fell in love with that innocent little baby long before she was ever born, and how happy she was, watching her grow. How even though it was just the two of them, they were a family.”

He was already shaking his head, not wanting to hear what came next but I didn’t give a shit.

“Want to hear how she had to sit beside a hospital bed every night reading fairytale stories to her daughter, knowing she wouldn’t live long enough to find her own happily-ever-after? Or how about I tell you that she cries in her sleep sometimes and spends every Sunday talking to a headstone with her child’s name on it?”

“Stop, please.” He looked like he might cry. Good. I was on the verge myself; the only thing keeping the tears in check was the rage that I felt whenever I looked at him.

“No, Derek, you stop. She’s not the girl you remember. She can never be that girl again and you forcing her to deal with your advances is adding stress that she doesn’t fucking need. Whatever you used to be to each other, you’re not anymore. You killed the love she had for you when you turned your back on her. She’s not going to take you back. In her mind, it would be a betrayal of her daughter’s memory. Taking you back would be like saying she regrets everything that came after your break-up. Saying she wants to forget it all and embrace the future she’d been planning before Amelia.”

“And she can’t do that, can she?” He sounded properly chastised but still hopeful. I really wanted to punch him for still hoping.

“No, she can’t. She won’t. Not ever.”

He pulled his briefcase strap onto his shoulder, a contemplative look on his face. For once, that air of arrogance was gone. “I know you must think I’m a total piece of shit. I’d probably think the same thing in your shoes, but I never wanted to leave her. I let my pride get in the way; let my idiot friends convince me that she was making it up to cover up a mistake. I regretted it the second I left her there but I just couldn’t find a way to take it all back.”

“Can I be honest here?” I asked, not wanting to let him off the hook.

He gave me a wry look. “As opposed to the sugarcoating you’ve been doing up until now?”

Touché. “I don’t think you actually love her.” He started to protest and I cut him off. “Wait, let me finish.” He snapped his mouth shut but glared at me, miserable. “I think you’re sick of living with the guilt, like you said. I think it is killing you that you left her like that and you want to absolve yourself by winning her back. If she took you back, that would mean she’s forgiven you.”

He shook his head, denying what was obviously a direct hit. “You’re wrong. I would never use her like that to clear my conscience.”

“Yeah. And I bet you said you would never leave her in the first place. Regardless, you need to find a way to let this shit go without hurting her.” I stepped in close and held his eye. “Because, unlike you, I have her back. And I won’t hesitate to fuck you up.”

“I don’t doubt you’d try.” His cocky streak made an appearance. “But I have no intention of ever hurting her again and that has nothing to do with you or your threats. It’s because, despite your assessment of my motives, I do love her.”

“Yeah, I bet. Look what your love got her last time.” I snarled, dying to wipe that smug look off his face.

“What? Like she’d be better off with you? You think you can love her better than I can? You don’t even know her. You don’t have the history with her that I do. That counts, whether you believe it or not.”

I couldn’t contain it anymore. I reached up and snared him by the collar, bringing my face to within inches of his. “What counts is that I don’t have a history of abandoning her.” I gave him a push and watched with a smirk as he staggered back, not even attempting to retaliate. “I can do everything better than you—everything—including loving her the way she deserves. Don’t keep pushing this. You’ve already lost. You’re just too damn selfish to accept it.”

He glared at me and straightened his shirt, tugging the briefcase strap higher on his shoulder.

I stepped back and indicated that I’d follow him out. It gave me a jolt of pleasure that he cast a wary glance behind him on the way, as if he was worried I’d come after him while his back was turned.

I wasn’t the coward in this situation and I had no problem facing him head-on. Like Clay always said, sneak attacks are for pussies.

I locked up without further comment to him, listening as his footfalls carried him down the sidewalk.

Shoving the conversation to the back of my mind, I headed toward my car with a grin. It was time to go back to Talia’s. My fierce little tigress had faced him head-on too, and that entitled her to a reward.

And I intended to reward her for hours.

Talia

I STILL COULDN’T
believe he let me drive his Chevelle. Not only did he crawl into the passenger seat of his beloved car like he handed me the reins all the time, he insisted we jump on the interstate—which was nowhere near my apartment—so I could ‘stretch her legs.’

Several hours later, I was still smiling about it.

That car was loud and fast and got me so hot I barely got us back to my place before practically climbing Spencer like a tree. Lucky for me, something about seeing me drive his car turned him on, too. We were frantic for each other, knocking things over and wildly tearing at each other’s clothes until there was nothing between us but air.

And then even the air couldn’t separate us.

It was the first time since this all started that he let me do as I pleased. I reveled in the transfer of power and seized the opportunity with gusto.

Afterward we lay flat on our backs on my bed, covers strewn around the room, while we caught our breath.

Spencer chuckled softly, smile wide. “Well, that was fun. You’re a bit of a freak, you know that, sweetheart?”

“There’s something to be said for letting me follow my own impulses, I guess,” I teased.

“I’d have to agree with that. It won’t be the norm, but it will definitely be a recurring thing. Seabiscuit was never ridden so hard. I think I left a permanent ass print in your mattress.”

I turned to face him, head propped up with my hand. “I’ll consider it a keepsake for when you have to go back to Richmond.” I smirked at him seductively, running my fingers through the small trail of hair on his lower abdomen. “And then I’ll come for a visit and put a matching dent in your mattress. Deal?”

He pulled me until my body blanketed his, grasping a handful of my hair and tugging. “How about we put
your
ass print in my mattress?”

I rolled off of him, pulling him along with me, forcing his body on top of mine. “How about we put my ass print on them both? We can start with this one.”

He pressed himself against my belly, hard again already. “You keep talking like that and we’ll be lucky to ever make it out of this bed.”

I kissed him hungrily. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Me too.” He said as he thrust into me.

I wasn’t sure who was more addicted, me or him.

AFTER WHAT I
estimated to be over a half dozen orgasms, I grudgingly left the bed to ready myself for work. I always went in at five to help with the evening shift but these last few days I’d been less punctual about it, arriving at quarter past and once—the day Spencer surprised me with shower sex that lasted longer than the hot water—I hadn’t gotten there until nearly six.

Luckily, I wasn’t technically on the schedule so no one was left in a bind, and the only comment made with regard to my tardiness was a suggestive brow wiggle or two from Gina.

I showered and walked back to the bedroom in just a towel, putting my long hair up in a messy bun while I applied my makeup.

Spencer walked in from the hall, a glass of iced tea in each hand. He placed one on my dressing table and took a seat on the foot of the bed to watch me go through my ritual. That was dangerous. I’d already nearly poked a damn eye out with my mascara wand when he walked in with his chest bare and those low slung jeans that accentuated his muscular torso. And that delicious V that began at his hips and pointed the way to his... well, it was a great V.

The man was walking, talking sex and feeling his gaze on me as I sat wrapped in only a thin towel was going to equate another late arrival to work. I had to distract myself before I got tangled up in those sheets with him again. “So, are you going to be working on your secret project again this evening?” Whatever he and Clay had going, he was tight-lipped about it. He wouldn’t even give me a hint. All I knew was it was going to be epic and it involved a lot of people, both tidbits I’d gathered while he talked to Clay on the phone, unaware of my prying ears. I didn’t usually snoop, but he wouldn’t give me clues.

That was the kind of teasing no one liked, dammit.

“Yeah. I’m meeting with a couple of people for dinner to work on it.” He gave me a half smile when I rolled my eyes at his vagueness.

“Why don’t you bring them to Canary? I happen to know the owner and she might just comp your drinks. I hear she’s really cool like that.”

He outright laughed at that one. “Nice try. If we went to Canary, I bet said manager would be hovering nearby trying to spy on something that’s none of her business. That would ruin the surprise.”

I huffed, breaking out the big guns and removing the clips from my hair so it fell down my back. He loved my hair down. “Why would that spoil the surprise? You don’t know that she would blab.” I theorized.

“Not tell her best friend the huge secret? The one who is more sister than friend? It’s a safe bet that she’d snitch.” He teased me back by running a hand over his beard, the sound of the stubble scraping over his palm making my heart race. I loved that beard. So damn sexy.

I gave up, knowing I wasn’t getting any information out of him.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t get him back.

I stood, casually fluffing my hair and letting the towel drift to the floor. I flipped my head over to scrunch the curls and heard his soft gasp when I whipped my head back and straightened.

“Keep teasing me like that, precious. You won’t make it to work at all tonight.” He stood and walked over to me, placing his hands on either side of my waist. “Or is that what you’re after?”

I pressed a hand to his hard chest, tempted to pull him in but pushing him away instead. “No, you behave. We each have somewhere to be tonight. Wouldn’t want you to be late to your secret meeting, now would we?” The last sentence was heavily laced with sarcasm.

“You know, you’re cute when you pout. Maybe I should annoy you more often.” He tweaked my nipple and I swatted his hands, squealing.

He walked out of the room, his laughter booming down my hallway.

He was such a shit.

And I was falling hopelessly in love with him.