Beautifully Broken 4: Until We Fly

How dare he put his hands on her?

Why didn’t anyone stop it?

I already know the answer.  Because business comes first in the Greene household.  I saw that firsthand tonight.  And Camille… she doesn’t give a f**k about the business, but she feels powerless to stop anything in that house.  I can see that, too.  Maxwell is the powerhouse in that family, and everyone else are his pawns.

Fucking rich people.

Rolling my eyes, I put the laptop away and crawl back into bed, careful not to disturb Nora.  I pull her into my arms though, and keep her sprawled comfortably on my chest.

Here in the night, in this bedroom, there’s no one but her and me.

That’s how I want it to stay, although that very notion scares the shit out of me.

I can’t put myself out there again.  I’ve been through the bloody hills of Afghanistan, but there’s nothing scarier than opening yourself up to someone else, only to get shattered.

I’ve been through that before, and I don’t want to do it again.

With a groan, I run my hands over Nora’s perfect bare ass.

Everything in me reacts, my heart pounds, my dick twitches, my groin contracts.

Somehow, I’m guessing I won’t have a choice.

I’ll end up laying myself out there.

I only hope there’s pieces of me left when it’s all over.

***

I wake in the morning to someone staring at me.

I open my eyes to find Nora on her elbow, her hair tickling my mouth.

“Good morning,” she says softly.  Her mouth is full and lush, and suddenly, I want to kiss it.

So I do.

She kisses me back, soft, then firmer, before she pulls away.

“I…uh.  I thought I was on the beach last night,” she murmurs, looking away and staring out the window.  Her cheeks are flushed.

I nod.  “Yeah.  You were. But I brought you in, cleaned you up and put you to bed.  The next time you want to finish off a bottle, can you just do it in on the couch?”

I’m joking, but she blushes even more, the flush spreading to her chest.

“I’m sorry,” she tells me.  “I don’t know what came over me.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I answer quickly.  “It’s fine.  You had a hard night.”

She rolls on top of me, her hands on either side of my face, her legs straddling my hips.

“I don’t remember, so if I said anything embarrassing, please just forget it,” she pleads prettily, her hair falling into my face in a cascade.  “I’ll make it worth your while.”

She wiggles her hips, grinding into my groin, which of course reacts.  My dick springs to life, pressing into her and she smiles in satisfaction.

“Maybe you do want me,” she says huskily.

“I do,” I agree, remembering her pitiful question from last night.  Why don’t you want me?

As I stare into her beautiful face and I see all the questions in her eyes, the insecurities, the doubts, I do the only thing I can do… the only thing I think will help.

I show her how much I want her.

You’re not used.

My h*ps flex.

You’re beautiful.

I run my hands over her back, her shoulders, her hips.

Inside and out.

I push my fingers into her, sliding them out, then back in.  Her neck arches, she sighs.

I can’t say the things I’m thinking, because she doesn’t want to talk about it. Because she thinks that I don’t know.  Because talking about it with me would kill her.

So instead, I show her what I’m thinking.

You’re worthy.

You’re beautiful.

You’re mine.

I plunge inside of her, deep inside, claiming her for my own, for now, for the summer, for as long as she’ll let me.

You’re mine.

I press my forehead to hers as we rock together, as I claim her over and over and over.

You’re mine.

She’s trembling when we’re done, limp in my arms as I hold her.

Mine.

Chapter Nineteen

Brand

Days are seamless here now.

We chat on the porch, we sit on the pier, we lie together in the hammock at night, watching the stars.

Each day, I think Nora will confide in me.

Each day, I think she’ll trust me enough to tell me what William did to her.  I know, in my gut, what it was.  But I can’t know it for a fact until she tells me.

Each day, she doesn’t.

Each night, I hold her until she falls asleep.

Each night, I try and steel myself against her, to keep from getting sucked in further.

Each day, I try not to trust the feelings that are growing, the attachment, the tenderness, the bond.

Each day, I realize I’m failing.

Nora

I watch Brand sleeping on the couch with a book on his chest.  He’d fallen asleep an hour ago and ever since, I’ve watched him.

He’s so peaceful when he sleeps, his face so open.

I could watch him all day and all night.

But my phone dings, distracting me, filling my heart with dread.

I know… I know… the other shoe is getting ready to drop. 

These past days have been too good, too comfortable, too perfect.

I approach my phone, and as innocuous as it seems lying on the kitchen counter, it might as well be poison, because when I pick it up and read William’s words, the toxin runs through my veins, pulsing through my heart.

I want to see you.  Sunday.  In the conference room of Greene Corp, just you and me.  2pm.  Be there.  You don’t want to know what will happen if you don’t show up.  But here’s a hint:  It involves your boyfriend.

I knew he’d been threatening Brand the other night with his text.  You and your boyfriend f**ked up.

I knew it.  And I’ve been waiting with bated breath, every day, to see what he was going to do.

And here it is.

I’ve been summoned.

I’ll finally know.

I glance at Brand and I literally have to fight the urge not to shudder over what I’ve done.  Being here could’ve put him at risk.  Every day I wanted to tell him, every day I didn’t .

Each day, he’s been nicer and nicer to me, making it impossible for me to want to ruin it.

I didn’t want this fake little bubble that we’ve built here to burst… even though it was never real in the first place.

I should’ve told Brand from the very beginning that I’m encased in a bubble, my bubble is made of Swarovski crystal, and at the whim of my uncle or my father, I would drop to the floor and shatter.