Exquisitely Broken (A Sin City Tale Book 1) Page 13
I run openmouthed kisses down his jaw and his gruff moan stirs a passion I’d thought was buried a long time ago. It ruptures to the surface, pushing through every barrier I’ve erected against him.
All it took was a slow grind and one kiss. One sensual twist of his tongue against mine and I was done for. I close my eyes and let out a shaky breath.
Jake’s mouth brushes over my mine. His probing tongue, tempting me to open up, to let him come in to play. I twist away from his lips, but he fists my hair, maintaining our position. His lips ghost over my cheek.
“Sin,” he whispers with a possessiveness so raw my heart twists. “I’m not asking you to give me forever. Just give me now.”
“Jake this only ends one way.”
“And how’s that?”
“With us—” Back where we started. Raw and vulnerable. Lost in fantasy. Until reality intrudes. I drop my chin, but his hands move around the back of my neck stopping the motion. Jake dips his head, his heated gaze unyielding.
“Together,” he says in a voice that sounds like steel encased in the smoothest satin. “The way it was always supposed to be. Give me right now, baby. And the rest?” He lowers his head. “It’ll take care of itself.”
“Yes.” The word rips out of me. Harsh and breathless, but he hears it, and it’s like setting a spark to a flame. His lips slam down hard on mine, and he consumes me. His intensity casts a spell that pulls me down the rabbit hole.
“Fuuuuuck. I hope you’re ready,” he growls in my ear.
Oh, I’m ready. This night has been years in the making. Its possibility has lived under my skin and at the edges of my nonconscious thoughts since the day I left. I flatten my palm against the hard plain of his chest, letting my nails scrape against the indents of his abs and obliques. I palm his length through his slacks and jack him slowly.
One more time. That’s all this is.
One. Last. Time. To let our bodies communicate the words we can’t speak, to get the closure we didn’t have four years ago, to finally work him out of my system.
Jake sucks in a sharp breath. His words are unintelligible, lost somewhere between frenzied kisses and thrusting the hard length of his erection into my tight grip.
He unsnaps the button on my pants and pushes the leather over my hips exposing already flushed skin to the hot desert air. His fingertips skim the newly exposed flesh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as he drops to his knees.
Jake wrenches off the leather pants in a swift move. My shoes come off with the pants and clatter to the ground. I’m so wet that the desert heat feels cool against my skin. “Jesus Christ, babe, you’re seriously trying to kill me.” He kisses my hipbone. “Since when do you run around without panties?” His hands curve around my ass as he eases my legs farther apart moving his thumb smoothly down my wet slit coating the swollen lips with my arousal.
My hips buck under his touch and a knowing smile pulls at his mouth. Soft lips graze the sensitive patch of skin right below my belly button and the edges of my vision blur, narrowing down to this man, and his mouth, and his touch. God, his mouth. I really, really missed his mouth.
I get no warning before Jake dives in, kissing my pussy with the same ferocity he kissed my mouth. It’s hot and filthy and so fucking good. I scratch my fingers into the wall, searching for anything to anchor me because I’m spiraling down, down a long, dark hole of lust. I’m okay if I never see the light of day again.
He breaks the suction, and I look down the length of my body to find his eyes. “That’s right, baby,” he says right before he laps my slit in one long stroke “Give me a face full of that gushy. Ride my fucking tongue, Sin. Take what you want.”
The vibration of his voice makes my clit throb. Sweat trickles down my back and I open my legs farther, giving him even better access. But it’s not enough and I’m close. So close. If I could just move my left leg just a little more…
Did I say that out loud? Jake immediately reacts to my plea. He runs a hand down the length of my leg, wrapping it around my ankle. He lifts my leg over his shoulder, exposing every inch me in the most delicious way. Two fingers drag through my depilated folds, teasing the already sensitive skin.
I wrap my hands around the back of his head and guide him exactly where I need him, my hips moving of their own accord as I ride his mouth. I’m whimpering for him to give me more. Give me everything. All other thoughts are drowned out by the low buzz of lust.
Jake makes succulent wet sounds, groaning into my folds, gorging himself on me. He smacks my ass hard sending a shockwave straight to my clit, and then two thick fingers plunge inside me—the perfect counterpart to his soft mouth, and I pitch forward coming on a keening wail that sears my lungs.
I sag against the wall as Jake kisses his way back up my body. I’m too far gone to worry about what we’re doing or what this means. Tomorrow. I’ll think tomorrow. When my brain synapses start firing again and things like consequences matter.
But right now, the whisper of his zipper and the crinkle of a foil wrapper fills me with anticipation. When he slips his thick dick between the globes of my ass I go up on tip toe and arch my back helping him slip into the mess he left between my legs.
His hips pump just a little, easing the tip of his erection inside me, and we both groan. Jake shifts closer, pulling first one leg and then the other around his waist. The rough stubble on his cheeks sanding my own. “So fucking tight.” He growls close to my ear. His voice a boom in the silence.
His hips retreat only to move forward again, pushing his shaft a little deeper inside. “I love you so much,” he pants against my cheek and I melt. Even after all this time, those words from him make me feel special. Chosen. But no. No. No. No. He doesn’t love me. He can’t. This… what we’re doing is closure. One. More. Time.
His tortured statement is enough to snap me back to the fucked up reality that is us. He brings his face to mine, softly kissing my lips. I smell traces of my scent on his skin, and I taste us when his tongue delves deeper into my mouth. Jake’s hips thrust again, this time seating him fully inside me. A look of sheer bliss moves across his face.
“I love you,” he says over and over like a mantra as he finds his rhythm.
Where his body made me hot, his words chill me to my core. The last time he said those words to me, I believed them to the very essence of my being, and they turned out to be utter shit.
“Jake… stop,” I pant, trying to knock his body off me with a shoulder. His movements still immediately.
“What’s wrong? You okay, baby?” His voice is raw. Every word strains past his vocal chords.
“We never should’ve…” I start, pointing at my mostly naked body. “This can’t happen. Off.” I move away from his warmth, and I wince a little as he slides out of me. He staggers back looking confused as he stuffs his still wet dick back in his pants. His shirt is rumpled, and his chest is visibly moving up and down with hard breaths.
“Where are my pants?” I look around. My eyes sweep the small balcony locating the ball that was my pants close to the railing. With as much dignity as I can muster, I walk to my pants, shake out my shoes and wiggle to pull them up over my hips. Jake runs a hand over the back of his head, the muscles of his jaw ticking as he grinds his teeth into powder.
It takes me prolonged awkward minutes to pull up the top and grab each shoe and put them on under his heated stare, but once I’ve pulled my shit together, at least as much as I can in the face of blue balls and throbbing vaginas, I move across the balcony to the door. The closer I get to Jake, the harder my heart beats. I see a million questions in his eyes.
“Sin, just let me—”
“I don’t need an explanation, Jake. For just a second, I was able to forget. It won’t happen again.” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more, him or me.
“All right, Sinclair,” he says before he punches the code into the keypad and opens the door.
NOW
Sinclair
I hate having secrets from Adam. He’s my person. The one that I’d normally talk to about being naked on a balcony and staring in my own personal porno. Hands down the hottest night of my life.
In the light of day, I can admit maybe not my brightest idea. It should have never happened. I should have never let things get that far. Thank God no one walked out on that balcony and saw us. I can picture the tabloids now—Sinclair James Gets Pussy Demolished by Ex.
My mind wanders to Jake, and a phantom touch moves down my body. It’s like I can still feel the strength in his hands as he gripped my ass and the roll of his hips as he fucked me against the wall. If my skin tone was a little lighter, I’m sure I’d be red with the flush spreading across my skin right now. I slow my approach, giving myself time to cool down before I ring the doorbell.
I run an anxious had over my hair and clothes. Almost like last night’s sex left a noticeable stain or, at the very least, a hickey I didn’t see in the mirror before I got here.
Adam opens the door before I press the button, his bare feet peeking from under low hanging sweatpants and an old Ramones shirt clinging to his chest and biceps. He’s put his hair is up in a messy bun on top of his head in a way that accentuates all the sharp angles of his face.
“Sorry,” I rush out before he can say anything. Adam leans against the door frame as his eyes rove over my face and reading me for fucking filth. He knows. He so totally knows. “I lost track of time. But…” I pull my writing notebook out of a messenger bag and wave it in his face. “I’ve been writing all morning. I think some of it can work.”
“I was about to put the carne asada on the grill and make a PB&J for Tori,” Adam says, walking down the hall toward the kitchen. “We’ll eat first, and then we’ll hammer out the music, yeah?”
“Absolutely.”
I follow Adam toward the back of his three-bedroom house to the great room. His kitchen and den share one area. Tori is on her tummy on a shaggy rug in front of the TV. When she sees me, she hops up and runs over, wrapping her arms around my legs. Adam and Tori are twenty-eight years apart, but I still see him when I look at her. They share similar features, but where Adam is lean angles and fair skin, Tori is round cheeks, and her mixed heritage is evident in her golden cat eyes, toasted brown skin and golden curls. But when I look at her little face, I see Adam’s deep-set eyes, straight nose, and full lips.
“Sin, Addy said that after we eat, we might go swimming. You’ll swim too, right?”
“We’ll see, sugar. I didn’t bring a suit this time, but I might put my feet in the water and splash you.” I squeeze her tight and can’t help but smile as she squeals with happiness. She runs back to her spot in front of the TV, and I settle on the bar stool.
“So, you got anything for me to eat? You know I prefer my meals to be faceless and parentless.”
“Yes, Sin, I’m pretty certain that after fifteen years together I’m well versed in what you do and don’t eat. Carne asada for me and cheese quesadilla for you.” He rolls his eyes with feigned annoyance.
We sit in a comfortable silence while he takes the meat out of the marinade and sprinkles it with seasonings “So… you gonna tell me about the song?” He wipes juice off his thumb while scrutinizing me.
I give him a blank stare. I’d been expecting him to say… I don’t know what I have been expecting him to say, but that was not it. Where is the big brotheresque inquisition? Maybe the last eight hours was more than enough time to erase all traces of Jake away? Or perhaps for the first time in forever, his mind is on other shit like his sister and the pending court hearing for custody. He doesn’t have time to worry about me and the hook up that should have never happened. I look over at Tori and smile. When I turn back to Adam, he raises his brows in question.
He looks me over more speculatively, like he’s taking note. His gaze says he knows, but he’s leaving it up to me to tell him. I drop his gaze and focus on my notebook instead.
Adam is the least judgmental person I know. He’s the very essence of live and let live, but when it comes to me, to family, he can be a pit bull. Jake has always brought out every protective instinct Adam has. He doesn’t need my very stupid confusion about a man the entire world knows is no good for me.
Adam leans forward and snatches the notebook on the bar. He opens the book, flipping to the last page, and quickly reads the lyrics. His gaze flips up to mine a couple of times before he says, “Good on you, Sin. This song is good. Rough around the edges but I like it. You got a melody yet?”
I cringe in my seat once again feeling the heat of an invisible blush working its way over my skin. His mention of the melody immediately takes me back on that balcony with Jake kneeling in front of me, his mouth working me over, tongue sliding over wet skin, thick fingers drawing out an orgasm. What I have in mind is a melody inspired sex, straight without a chaser, raunchy, up against the wall, skin slapping sex.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, I have a little something. Nothing set in stone though.”
Once again catching my eye, he utters, “You want to tell me where the sudden inspiration struck?”
“No.” I grab the notebook out of his hands feeling like a petulant child trying to lie to a parent.
“No worries. You thinking hard or soft?” His eyes bore into mine with way more understanding than I deserve. “Definitely hard. Maybe a little bluesy.” He shakes his head. “Go get the guitars out of the studio. I’m thinking Jag and Hidalgo for this one. They’re versatile enough we can play with some different sounds until we get it right. Ima throw this meat on the grill.” He grabs the tray of meat and heads out the sliding glass door, but he stops just before the threshold.
“Sin?”
“Yeah.”
“Whoever he is—” His eyes meet mine over his shoulder, and I know he knows. I don’t know if he’s letting me hold on to my dignity or work through this thing with Jake on my own, but my little act didn’t fool him. “Just be careful.”
I don’t tell Adam that it was only one time or assure him that I won’t let Jake and his asshole tendencies pull me so far into the abyss it’ll take me another four years to find light again.
Embarrassment twists in my gut. I can’t believe I let him do it again. Even knowing what he’s capable of, I couldn’t help but get sucked back in. What is that old saying? Fool me once and it’s a warning, fool me twice and it’s a lesson. I’m trying to learn, really I am, but that man is like catnip to me. More than anything I’m letting his presence erect something between me and the only family that I have.
Adam’s position is clear. As one of the people who watched me fall apart last time and ultimately helped put all those pieces back together, he knows firsthand the damage Jake caused and I do too, which makes me an even bigger fool.
I jump off the barstool and head to the small studio he had built on the other side of the house. I need to do something to get my mind off my blast from a very dark past. His studio is neat like everything else in his life. I don’t even have to look for his guitars. They are on the side of the room that has a mural of Clapton playing. Jag, his red and white Fender, is in a floor holder while his favorite, Hidalgo, a custom painted and crafted Fender, is in a case. The only time he comes out is if he’s actually in use.
I carry both to the great room. Adam is back in the kitchen frying tortillas to make taco shells for dinner.
“We’ll eat first and then dig in, yeah?” He throws me a look over his shoulder.
“Yeah.”
This family is real. Adam and I making music while scarfing down tacos and quesadillas makes sense. Jake and I on a balcony with hundreds of people only a couple of footsteps away was insanity. I can’t do it again. Despite how much I liked it or how good it felt, Jake
may not be a bad guy anymore, but he most certainly is not my guy.
He caught me at the right place and time. Tell the truth, Sin. You wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. It doesn’t matter. What I might have wanted last night is irrelevant because I can’t have Jake. Not anymore.
With our meal done Adam and I settle on the floor, our backs against his large sofa, and guitars plugged into portable amps. I hum the melody that’s been rattling around in my brain and try to make my fingers replicate it on the guitar. I usually write on a piano, but for this song I need to hear that high-pitched wail. Adam jumps in adding a riff here and a power chord there, and when I begin to sing the first couple of lines, his eyes close as his head bobs up and down.
“Fire, Sin. This song is sultry summer nights and the call for angsty sex,” he muttered. And because I can’t say, “It’s funny you say that, Adam. Just yesterday after all the drama and media scrutiny, I let Jake go down on me on balcony surrounded by sexy neon and warm air. And it was dirty, and raw, and everything that I missed from the one man I should stay away from.” Instead, I simply nod and get lost in creating.
When it comes to this part of writing, Adam has never asked me why. He doesn’t need to because he already knows. I read somewhere once that your soul can have different kinds of mates. In fact, most soul mates aren’t romantic. Their whole purpose is to challenge you. Help you get to the next level and that is Adam to a T. I’ve always known him. If our circumstances were different, I would’ve still found him. I feel the same way about Jake with one exception. Adam is my tribe while Jake is my other half. Correction, was my other half.
“It’s different from all our other stuff,” I say. “You think people will like it?”
“Of course, it’s different, Sin. You’re different.”
Four Years Ago
Sinclair
“Let’s hurry up and finish loading all this crap,” Adam says.
I heft two guitar cases over my shoulder and move as fast I can under the weight.