Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense) (19 page)

A few days ago I never thought I’d be thinking this, but I hate my scars for the way the keep me from opening my mouth all the way. I want him in my mouth, I want to feel him trembling between my lips. He made me come with his mouth, his face buried between my legs. I want to feel that, to look up at him as he stares down at me. Give myself to him completely.

I’ll have to settle for this. I throw my leg over him and sit on his legs, then lift up on my knees and grasp his cock in my hand, guiding him inside me. It’s still awkward to get him in at first. I have to rub the head against me even though I’m sopping wet, aching to be filled. When he finally slides inside me…

I slip, my knee goes out from under me, and I yelp as I take him all at once, oh my
God
.
The look of confused ecstasy on his face is like a sugar-sweet kiss. I sit there trembling, straddling him, groaning as I try to get used to the sensation of his cock filling me up. I love feeling it, love it when he puts it all the way in and doesn’t move.

I touch myself, low, under my belly button. “All the way in,” I say, poking the spot where it must reach.

Jack snorts and starts laughing, and I join him. The shaking in his body flows into mine. I can feel him through his cock. I can feel his heartbeat, pounding fast and hard. I start to move, just barely, and he grabs my hips and stops me. His hands slide up my sides, and I feel a quiver of shame as he touches my scars, but his expression never shifts, until he gets this stupid, goofy grin on his face as he cups my breasts.

He doesn’t have to say it. I can feel his thoughts.
I’m touching your boobs, Ellie!

I can’t help it, I giggle. Until I grab his hand, pull it up to my chin, and suck his finger. Jack thrusts up into me from below and I start pumping my hips. I grab his wrists and keep his hands pressed over my breasts, so he won’t try to grab my hips and slow my rhythm. The look on his face is incredible.

“Horny, huh?” he gasps.

“Yeah,” is all I can manage. It feels so
good
.

Jack strains under me, those beautiful muscles tensing and flexing as the feeling of my body stroking his cock turns his expression from strained pleasure to slack and back again.

I finally can’t stop him from sitting up and wrapping his arms around me. He falls and pulls me back down, presses me against him, and I let go, relax, and let him thrust into me from below as he pins me to his chest.

I don’t like feeling confined, but I love feeling trapped by Jack’s powerful arms, enclosed and held. I can’t even control the angle or how fast he fucks me…and I
like it
. I can just let go and feed on his energy, flowing into me, expanding, making my head go all fuzzy.

I grip him hard and my throat burns from stopping myself from crying out. I shiver and squirm, full-body shocks passing through me in uncontrollable spasms. I start to lose it quickly and jerk upright, trembling wildly, sitting on him, biting my bottom lip to stay quiet.

It just keeps
going
, every time it fades back I think it’s over but it comes back harder. I can feel him finishing inside me, bucking up into me from below. When I can’t take it anymore I fall over onto the bed and curl up into a ball.

“Hey, you okay?” Jack says, panting, red faced, sweaty.

He strokes my arm as I nod and lie there. Everything is too much. The sheets, his touch, even my own breathing is too loud. Jack pulls back when he sees me tense from his touch and waits, smiling to himself in satisfaction.

I finally reach out and grab his hand, lace my fingers through his, and squeeze.

“That good, huh?”

“Yeah. That good.”

“We need to get cleaned up then get going. Bathroom is across the hall.”

“You go first. I need to rest a bit.”

I’m not sure how long I sleep, just a quick catnap. I wake to Jack gently shaking my shoulder. He’s warm and smells clean and his hair is wet, and I want to shove him back down on the bed and jump on him again, but there’s no time and we’re out of condoms.

My legs are still a little shaky. I put on the same robe he used and dart across the hall, lock myself in, and take a quick, hot shower. I’m a little sore and still a little tired, yawning my way back to the guest bedroom.

When I get inside Jack grabs me and yanks my robe off. I play at wriggling out of his arms but I let him hold me, run his hands over my body. He stops just short of slipping his hand between my legs, and instead dresses me. He clasps my bra, pulls a fresh sweatshirt over my head, and fluffs my hair with his fingers.

“Ready to go?”

I slip into my shoes and nod.

Yeah, ready to go.

I smell food. Jack’s mom made sausage and eggs, and the girls are already eating.

“Eat up before you go. I insist.”

We eat quickly. Half my bites come off Jack’s fork as he insists on feeding me. His sisters give us funny looks, but the younger one thinks it’s funny.

In half an hour I’m sitting in the car while Jack talks to his mother at her front door. They embrace and she kisses him on the cheek and he comes running down to the car and gets in next to me.

The car starts with a snarling rumble, and we’re off.

“Still want to hit the Grand Canyon?”

“Yeah, let’s go see it. I might never get another chance.”

He takes my bad hand in his. I can’t really feel it but I don’t care anymore. I like the gesture.

“You know, we’ll figure this out. We’ll be able to go wherever we want. Once we’re married I’m going to tell my father, look, I’m staying with her and if you want to cut me off or disown me or whatever, go to hell.”

Jack leans over and kisses me softly.

“No matter what, I’ll be okay as long as I have you.”

I nod silently and sit back in the seat as he pulls away. I look back at the house, at his mother waving, and pull my hood up.

After a while Jack says, “You’re pretty quiet all of a sudden.”

“I miss my mom.”

Jack is quiet for a while. “Jessica?”

“No. My real mom. My birth mother. I can barely remember. I wasn’t very old when she died. She had cancer.”

Jack nods. “What do you remember?”

I shake my head. “Nothing specific. A feeling. Being held. It’s more something missing than something that’s there. Even after Dad remarried it was the same way. Something was missing. Half of him was gone.”

“I really liked your father, Ellie. He was a great guy.”

“He liked you. I was always surprised by that.”

“We, um, had a talk.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, remember that fourth date?”

Oh, that. I remember.

We were so young. Our dates were so childish, in their way. My father drove us to the art museum for our fourth official boyfriend-girlfriend date. Somewhere I still have a picture someone took of the two of us in front of the Rocky statue.

They were having an event that day. I can’t remember what it was, some kind of fundraiser, sort of a black-tie thing but not really. Most of the people there were old enough to be our parents. I think Jack wanted me to see him as cultured or something. There was wine and champagne, but we weren’t allowed to have any, so the staff working the drink table gave us ginger ale in champagne flutes.

We left the event itself after we ate a light dinner of tea sandwiches and soda, and walked through the museum. It was open, but everyone was at the event, so it was weirdly quiet.

I was wearing my only pair of high heels. I know Jack liked them. He kept looking at my legs. Not that I was showing much in a loose skirt that hung past my knees, but those shoes sent a certain signal. I might still have them in my closet. I’m not sure.

I can’t remember where he kissed me. Well, he kissed me on the lips, but I can’t remember where we were when he did. Somewhere in the arms and armor collection, some old dead samurai’s mask scowling at us in reproach as we locked lips.

It wasn’t my first kiss, wasn’t our first kiss, but it was different. It was the first time it wasn’t awkward, exploratory, teenagery. If I had to point you to my first kiss it’d be that one. It was my first grown-up kiss.

Jack pulled away from me, my overdone teenager’s lipstick on his cheek, and looked at the angry dead samurai.

“The hell you lookin’ at,” he said, grinning.

“Yeah,” Jack says, snapping me back to the present. “I wish it could be like it was.”

“Maybe it can.”

I look down at my tortured, broken hand resting on top of his. The mild nausea I always felt when I looked at my melted twisted fingers… It’s not gone, but it’s not there, either.

Jack glances at me and smiles.

Maybe if he loves me, I can love me, too.

Jack

I yawn and nudge Ellie’s arm.

“We’re here.”

She wakes and sits up abruptly, her head rising from my shoulder. She licks her lips, yawns, and stretches in the seat. I’m glad I already parked, because I love watching her do that. Her back pops and she winces a little.

I give Ellie a hand out of the car and she stretches again, rising on her toes and extending her arms over her head. Another yawn, and she looks around.

Her face lights up.

“Oh my God, we’re here?”

I nod, grinning.

She looks so happy, joy plain on her face. I take her hand and walk with her up the trail from the parking lot. While she was sleeping I pulled over and used her phone to find the best overlook. I’ve never seen it either, but her face is more interesting to me than a canyon.

There are a few other tourists, but she doesn’t notice them, somehow. She walks right to the railing and leans on it, staring. I look out when I’ve had my fill of soaking in the radiant awe on her face.

It is beautiful. Tough to describe. The river trickles by so far below it’s barely a sparkling line in the distance, so deep in the earth that a haze hangs over it. On the far side, mules walk down a path that disappears into the rock after their passing, carrying tourists staring down into the bottom. The low morning sun draws out all the colors, banding the earth in rich hues.

“It’s beautiful,” she says.

“Yeah. Beautiful.”

Ellie looks at me and fiddles with her hair—not the hair over her scars, she plays with a loose strand that hung over her other eye. I reach over and tuck it back behind her ear.

For a long time we just watch the canyon be a canyon.

“Hoover Dam is next.”

Ellie nods. “Let’s stay here for a while.”

She leads me over to a bench a few paces back from the railing and we sit. She’s practically on my lap, tucked up under my arm, leaning on me.

Something changes. It’s the way she breathes. I can just sense it.

“This isn’t going to last,” she says. “Something is going to take you away from me again.”

“Never.”

“Jack, your dad has a lot of power.”

“Does he?”

Ellie sits there for a while. “Of course he does.”

I don’t know, maybe the canyon makes me philosophical. I feel a little small.

“The stuff he does. Trying to push me around, controlling people, the bullying, the loud, obnoxious personality. That’s weakness, not power.”

“That’s great, but…”

“But nothing. I’m quitting, I’m leaving the life he wants me to lead. I’m going to live happily ever after with my wife and if anybody tries to stop me I’ll punch them in their fucking face. He’s first in line.”

Ellie gives me a sharp look then smiles softly and rests her head on my shoulder.

“We can’t stay long. They’re probably looking for us.”

“A while longer.”

I realize it’s time to leave when I spot a couple eyeing us, hard. I don’t know if it’s Ellie’s scars that draw their attention or they recognize us, but that’s enough for me. I stand and she pulls herself to her feet, holding my hand.

We walk casually back to the car but I keep looking over my shoulder.

As Ellie sits down, there is a soft ding. She looks at me and the color drains from her face. Her phone bings again, and she turns it so I can see it.

It’s from Jessica.

WHERE ARE YOU?

“What do I do?” she says. “Jack, I’m scared.”

“Give me your phone.”

She hands it over.

I start the car and pull the hand brake, run over to the overlook, and wind up. I hurl the phone over the edge and jog back to the car. A couple of people saw me, but fuck them.

Ellie stares at me. “What did you do
that
for?”

“They can track it. They’ll know where we are. We have to go, now. Las Vegas it is.”

“Jack, the phone had the map on it.”

“I can find it from here. There’s signs. I’ll ask for directions if I have to.”

“Sure you will,” Ellie says, folding her arms over her chest. “Fine, it’s just a phone. Let’s go.”

“I’ve still got mine. Here.”

I fish it out of my pocket. It’s safe. I bought it with cash so Dad wouldn’t be able to locate me with it. Ellie plugs in an address on Las Vegas Boulevard, and off we go.

It’s not a long drive, only a few hours. After all the driving I’ve done to get this far, it doesn’t really seem that long at all. Ellie is fully awake now, in awe of the scenery. I can see her face reflected on the window as she stares out with a relaxed, crooked smile the whole way.

The phone bleats in annoyance when I deviate from the planned route.

Ellie looks over.

“Hoover Dam, remember?”

“Jack, are you sure we should?”

“I’m sure. You want to see it, right?”

By the time we get there, I can see the lake beyond, glittering in the late-afternoon sunlight. I can’t see the dam, though, it’s farther up the highway. Ellie gasps.

“Jack, look at the sign.”

I look at it and shrug my shoulders. Damn it.

All visitors and vehicles will be searched and must present identification.

There’s a parking lot that overlooks the lake, before the dam itself. I pull off there and step out. We can at least get a look at this. Ellie walks to my side, leans on the railing and looks out.

“I wish we had a camera. We need pictures.”

“Yeah.”

Again, the natural beauty fades, and it’s her I have eyes for. There’s a sadness on her now, hanging around her shoulders like a blanket.