Breaking Josephine (17 page)

“Better than
Sam’s? You might be in trouble if word got out. He might make you stay back in
the kitchen and cook all morning,” he said, laughing and turning the bacon over
in the pan. “So where did you learn to make your best-in-Cannon-Beach
pancakes?”

“From my mom,” I
replied, smiling. “It was the first thing she taught me how to make when I was
a kid. She always joked with me that if I could make pancakes, I would never
have to worry about having a boyfriend, they’d stick around just so they could
eat breakfast. Although we usually ate pancakes for dinner, not breakfast in
our house.”

“Seriously? You
had pancakes for dinner?” Dex asked me, surprised.

“Yep. All the
time. I always thought it was just my mom being fun, that she’d let me have
breakfast for dinner—brenner we called it. But pancakes are cheap, and I’m
sure she probably did it to save money. She always managed to make me feel
satisfied and safe, like we wanted for nothing, when I know now how hard it
must have been for her.” I broke the eggs into the batter and whisked them
slowly until everything just blended. “Okay, this is ready. Is the griddle hot?”
I looked up at Dex, but he didn’t answer, his eyes far away and not seeing me. “Hello,
Dex? The griddle, is it hot?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,
it is,” he said, moving out of the way. “It’s all yours.”

“Thanks,” I said,
looking at him with one eyebrow raised in a question.

He smiled a sad,
small smile. “Sorry,” he said, “I was thinking about my mom and how different
our childhoods were. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to struggle
like that financially. We had our own difficulties, but not having enough money
to buy groceries wasn’t one of them.”

I poured the
pancake batter on the griddle in neat, small circles and responded, “That’s the
thing, I didn’t feel like we struggled. My mom made it seem like we had
everything we needed and I didn’t feel like we went without, or were poor. I
felt sheltered, cared for, loved. And that was enough for me then. Who knows
what I would have been like as a teenager, I’m sure I would have put my mom
through hell, I know I gave the staff at Overton a run for their money. But as
a kid, I thought my mom hung the moon and I didn’t see what we didn’t have.”

Dex looked at me
as he pulled the bacon out of the pan and wrapped it in a paper towel, the
grease seeping into the paper towel’s textured pattern.

“Did you ever know
your father?” Dex asked, in a quiet voice.

I paused, my
pancake-filled spatula hanging over the griddle, answering, “No. He died before
I was born.” I flipped the pancake over and continued, “My mom told me he
taught fifth grade in Portland. She said they were going to be married after I
was born, but he was in a motorcycle accident one day driving home from the
school where he taught, suffering major internal bleeding and numerous broken
bones. By the time the ambulance arrived he was unconscious and he never woke
up. He died in the hospital several days later. That’s pretty much all I know.”
I stacked the pancakes on a waiting platter, turned the griddle off, and walked
over to the kitchen table to sit down.

“Do you have any
photos of your father, anything to remember him by?” Dex asked.

“No. I wish I did,”
I said, sitting down. “My mother said she only ever had one photograph of him
since they didn’t have enough money for a camera back then. But her purse was
stolen when I was little and the photo was inside. I don’t have any idea what
he looked like, apart from the stories my mom told me.”

Dex put the hot
bacon and eggs on the table and sat down, looking out past the deck to the
ocean waves. “I’m sorry Jo. It must have been hard for you growing up and never
knowing your father.”

“It was and it
wasn’t,” I answered honestly. “In a way I didn’t know what I was missing. I had
a much harder time losing my mom then I ever did never having a father.” I
looked at Dex, who appeared lost in thought, still looking out the windows to
the ocean outside. “What was your father like?” I asked, trying to steer the
conversation away from me for a while.

“Honestly? He was
difficult. Nothing about our relationship, or his relationship with anyone
really, was easy,” Dex said, rubbing his temple. “He never kept his opinions to
himself and expected his family to agree with him on everything. I know he
loved me, but at times it felt like he put his goals for me ahead of any
concern for my well being.”

I swallowed a
piece of pancake, having to force myself to eat while Dex told me about his
father. Part of me didn’t want to pry, but another part of me desperately
wanted to know more about Dex and his family. I thought if I knew more about
his past, I could understand why he did the things he did, why he acted the way
he did now as an adult. “Did you ever disagree with him?”

“Yes,” Dex said
simply, not offering any more. I couldn’t help but push him further, to try and
learn more about his past.

“What happened?” I
asked, concentrating on my pancake to mask my curiosity.

“We fought, he
won,” he replied. Dex unwrapped the bacon and pulled out a piece, crunching
into it, breaking the salty strip into tiny pieces with his teeth. “I remember
when he first told me about boarding school and that I’d be leaving Portland in
the fall. I had just turned thirteen, full of teenage energy and awkward
anticipation. I thought I’d be going to the local Portland private school with
my friends. He told me the academics at the boarding school were the best in the
country, that going there ensured a spot in an Ivy League university and that I
didn’t have a choice in the matter—he’d paid tuition and I was going. I
told him I didn’t want to go, that I wanted to stay home with my friends and
with mom. He wouldn’t listen, didn’t want to hear the opinion of a thirteen
year old who didn’t have his life experience and foresight,” Dex said, exhaling
a long-held breath and taking another bite of the bacon still in his fingers.

“In the end he was
right, which was probably the most infuriating thing about the man, he actually
was right most of the time. I did have a much better education in boarding
school and it helped me get into Columbia. I wish I had been able to go later,
and had been here for my mom, wish I’d seen the signs of her getting sick and
been able to save her. I still can’t forgive him for that. But had I not been
able to escape and go somewhere I knew and felt safe after she died, I probably
wouldn’t be here today. So despite all the anger I felt toward him as a
teenager, I understand him now, and understand he had my best interests at
heart. I just wish he expressed himself differently back then, didn’t make
everything a battle he had to win.”

“It sounds like he
controlled everything you did, that you didn’t have a choice in any major
decisions,” I said.

“I didn’t,” he
answered simply. “I had no control over anything until he died, when all of a
sudden I had complete control over everything and didn’t know the first thing
about our family’s finances, Hartley Industries, nothing. I learned quick.” He
turned back to me finally and gave me a warm smile, taking my hand in his. “That’s
why I understand what it’s like to need to be in control, Jo. I know what it
feels like to grow up with no power to make any decisions for yourself, to be
unable to make choices that actually have an impact on your life. I don’t ever
want to be like my father—I never want to make anyone else’s choices for
them.”

Dex’s face grew
serious as he continued, “That’s why I’m so sorry I blew up at you Friday, and
ordered you not to see Colin. I sounded exactly like my father in that moment,
and I hated myself for it as soon as the words came out. You had every right to
react how you did. You should always be in control of everything you do Jo, I
won’t ever try to force you into anything again. I promise.”

“Thank you,” I
said, getting up and walking over to Dex. I straddled his legs and sat down on
his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I know how sorry you are and how
sorry I am. We both let our past and our insecurities affect us that night and
make us say things we both regret. But I’m here now and I trust you.” I leaned
toward him, kissing him lightly on the lips as he pulled me closer, his hands
wrapping around my back.

Dex pushed his
chair back and picked me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. He carried me
up the stairs to his bedroom, kissing me gently on the lips, cheek, and neck. I
wrapped my arms around his neck and ran my fingers through his dark hair, pulling
him close to me, feeling safe and secure and cared for. I realized as we
climbed the stairs that I was falling in love with Dex Hartley and it filled me
with a surge of happiness. I kissed him urgently on the lips, savoring his
coffee and bacon taste, wanting to feel the connection between us, the electric
energy that passed between us when we touched. Dex kissed me back as he set me
down on the edge of his bed. He pulled back and looked at me with a question in
his eyes.

“What?” I asked
him, sensing his reluctance.

Dex looked at me
his eyes full of concern and passion and the same time, saying, “I don’t want
to push you into anything if you’re still shaken from Saturday night.”

I smiled. “You’re
not pushing me. Dex, I want you, right here, right now. I’m not going to let
one bad person change me or our relationship. A random abusive stranger doesn’t
have control over me, I do.” I kissed him, a long full kiss, savoring his lips,
his taste, his smell.

Dex kissed me back
and I moved backward as he climbed up to meet me in the middle of his expansive
bed. I pulled his t-shirt over his head and ran my fingers across his warm,
bare skin. I felt the electric energy between us and I wanted nothing more than
to connect with him, to feel every inch of him, our bodies pulsing together in undulating
rhythm. He leaned over me and eased my tank top over my head, unhooking my bra
as his mouth found my exposed collarbone. He kissed me lightly as he kneeled
over me, running his fingers over my bare shoulder, feather light and soft. He
cupped my breast in his hand, gently caressing it as he took my nipple in his
mouth. I leaned back, arching into him, tossing my long hair behind me. I
closed my eyes and reveled in the way my skin felt when Dex touched me, they
way I felt alive and protected and cherished at the same time. He rolled my
exposed nipple between his fingers and a moan escaped my lips as pleasure shot
through me. I ran my hands down his chest, over his tight stomach to his lounge
pants. I ran my fingers along the waist of his pants, feeling his stomach
muscles quiver with desire. I edged my fingers inside the waist of his pants,
finding his boxers and yanked both down, exposing his throbbing erection. I
took him in my hands, gently caressing his pulsing desire, feeling him hard
with need and anticipation. He let my nipple go and pushed his pants off
completely as I kissed his naked chest.

He groaned,
pulling my flannel pants down and off my body. As I kissed his skin and caressed
his hard cock, running my hands up and down with increasing pressure, he pulled
my face toward his and kissed me hard on the mouth. His fingers found my
panties and pulled them off in one fluid motion. Our lips parted and as he
pulled away from me to find a condom, I looked at him, this amazing specimen of
a man, and couldn’t believe I was there, sprawled out on his bed, waiting to feel
him inside me. He pulled the condom on and came back to bed as I pulled him to
me, my hands guiding his body toward me.

Dex paused and
kissed me, running his hand under my back and pulling me up to meet him. He
turned us both over with his strength, so I was on top of him, my hands
pressing into the bed on either side of his gorgeous face.

“I want you to be
in control of this Jo, completely in control,” he said, as he guided my body
lower on top of him.

He pulled me
closer and I paused, momentarily insecure. I looked into his eyes and saw the naked
desire and lust he felt for me and it pushed me forward. I reached for his
pulsing erection and guided him inside me as I let myself come down, taking all
of him until our bodies touched. As I began to move on top of him, rocking my
hips forward and back, he closed his eyes and inhaled roughly, guiding my hips
with his hands. I pressed harder into him, feeling the pressure and pleasure mounting
in my body. I pushed harder and faster as I felt myself losing control, feeling
the need to release. Dex dug his hands into my hips as I bucked on top of him,
opening his eyes and locking them on my own. We stared at each other as our
bodies hummed with pleasure until I felt a blinding surge and explosion of pent
up desire, crying out in pleasure. As I cried out, riding Dex and riding the
crest of my orgasm, he came, pumping up into my body and jerking to a slow stop
beneath me. I crashed into him, feeling his sweat on my skin, feeling his heavy
breathing slow and moderate. He ran his fingers through my hair and held me to
him for a moment, savoring our connection. Then he rolled us both over and
pulled away from me, sliding the condom off and walking into the bathroom.

I laid there, in
Dex’s bed, the morning sun peaking through a layer of clouds and filtering
through the skylight, and laughed to myself at the sheer delight I felt. Feeling
the rhythm of my body on top of Dex’s, making him come with the movements of my
body, filled me with a satisfaction I couldn’t begin to describe. Dex came back
to bed, sliding up next to me and pulling the sheets up to cover us both. He
wrapped his body around mine, hugging my waist and pulling me to him. We fell
asleep there together in the pale morning light, content and at peace.