Shattered and Shaken (4 page)

“Need some help?” he asks, stepping down from his truck.

“Seems that way. I sure as hell
ain't carrying her.”

Bending down, he lifts Sophie from the car and into his arms effortlessly. He carries her up the two flights of stairs that lead to her apartment without getting winded, and no sign of breaking a sweat. Damn, gotta love a man that's fit. When we enter her place, he takes her to bed and lays her down.

“Can you get me some covers for the couch?” he asks sweetly.

Rummaging through her closet, I grab him a cover and two pillows. “Here, it's all she has.” I gently shove the bedding into his arms. “Need help getting situated?”
 

“
Naw, I think I can manage,” he replies sleepy. He bends down and points to his cheek indicating he wants a kiss.

“Night.” I place a kiss upon his stubble.

“Night, gorgeous, sweet dreams.”

He exits the room, leaving me alone, heart racing, panties melted, and no clean clothes. Looks like I'm going commando. Hopefully, Sophie will refrain from old habits, and I won't wake up to her groping me in the morning; that's one way my bat
ain't swingin'.

Lying in bed, I toss and turn for what seems like hours. As I turn over, I see that the clock reads three in the morning. I've punched and fluffed my pillow, changed positions, slapped the covers, and even kicked
Soph a few times - nothing's helped. I can't get Blake out of my mind. What happened between us keeps playing in my head. The way his hands felt as they grinded against me, the way his lips sent heat through my body, the way my sex throbbed for him as I felt his hardness against me. Shit. I may or may not be soaking Soph's sheets right at this very moment. Oh well.

Sitting up, I exit the bed and go through her dresser in search for something to wear. Throwing on a tank top and thong - still with tags - I head for the kitchen to find something to quench my thirst. As I tiptoe down the hall, I come to a halt as my eyes settle on Blake's bare chest and his leg hanging out from the cover; it's not either one of the legs he uses to ambulate - if you know what I'm
sayin'....

Oh, sweet, sweet, sweet, baby Jesus - it's glorious. My brain's chanting “close your eyes, Allie, just close your eyes,” but my eyelids disobey me; they seem to have a brain of their own. It takes all of my strength, but I tear my eyes away from him and all of his glory. Quietly, I make my way into the kitchen and raid the fridge for a bottle of water. I scan each level, but there isn't a damn thing to drink. As I bend down to check the bend at the bottom of the fridge, a hardness presses against my ass, and two large hands rest upon my hips.

“Thirsty?” he asks, his voice raspy.

Why I'm still bent over looking for something I already know isn't there is beyond me. Who am I kidding? We all know why I haven't moved; I mean, would you? “Actually, yes. What the hell does she drink besides vodka?” I ask, rummaging through the fridge for a third time.

He reaches an arm around my waist and pulls me back. “I took the last bottle of water she had.” He closes the refrigerator door.

“Oh yeah? What's a gal gotta do to get a sip of that purified, crisp, ice cold water, huh?” Taking my hands, I slide them up his chest and rest them on his broad shoulders.

“Depends on how much water this so-called gal is trying to take,” he shrugs.

My mouth is so dry that if a droplet of water hit my tongue, it would sizzle like an egg hitting a heated frying pan. “You name it, you got it, big boy.” I tickle my fingers down his chest and tuck my fingers into the waistband of his boxers.

“See, that little move right there just earned you ONE gulp.” Taking my hands, he leads me to the water; just like a camel. I follow him to the couch and take a seat. He hands me the water and I chug it all, sucking it until the plastic bottle scrunches.

He's sitting beside me with his hands clasped behind his head and his feet resting on the table in front of us. “Damn, babe, you weren't
kiddin'. I said one gulp, not one bottle.” He tries to look serious but fails as a smile slowly creeps across his face.

“Sorry.”

He reaches over and grabs me by the chin, turning my face to his, lifting it so he can stare into my eyes, “For what?” His brows furrow and I lift the empty bottle to give him a silent, but obvious answer. Shaking his head, he grabs the remote and flips on the television. I prop my feet up on the table beside his and snuggle into his side, resting my head on his chest; listening to the rhythm of his heart as my head rises and falls to the pattern of his breathing. It doesn't take long for my eyelids to become heavy and for me to fall fast asleep in his arms.

Chapter Three

THE NEXT MORNING, I wake up to something that feels like wood sticking into my back; holy shit, it is wood - morning wood. Unraveling myself from his hands, I attempt to stand without waking him. I'm successful. Lifting my head, I see a little Italian lady standing directly in front of me with arms crossed over her chest, nodding, biting her lip, and squinting her eyes at me - I'm not gonna live this down. She gestures one of her hands toward a sleeping Blake.

“Explain,” she commands.

“Explain what?” I recoil from her glare.

“Um, the fact that I wake up to the two of you tangled on my couch, with Blake pretty much naked. You two better not have christened my couch,
sista; I'll take you down." Walking towards me, she begins to lift her arms, and I flinch preparing myself for a slap to the face; however, I don't receive one. Instead, she wraps her arms around me, and hugs me tightly, “I knew you would give into him and all his sexiness. It's about damn time,” she exclaims.

“I didn't fall into anyone. The only reason I'm in here is because your ass claimed the entire bed, just how a sumo wrestler claims his ring; bumping into me and shit.” I go into the kitchen in search for a coffee pot and I'll be damned - she doesn't have one. Who in the hell doesn't have a coffee pot? If you don't have a coffee pot, I highly recommend you seek psychiatric treatment, because being coffee-less is insane!

“Soph, please, please tell me, you have a coffee pot somewhere...please,” I beg.

“Umm, negative. That shit's nasty, and if you keep drinking it, your taste buds are going to rot,” she expresses, looking disgusted.
  She walks past me to open her cabinet and pulls out a glass bottle filled with clear liquid.

“Please tell me you're looking for a coffee pot, and not about to down that shit.” I have to swallow back bile that's made its way into my throat. I look at the clock on her stove and it's eight in the morning, way too early for alcohol.

Unscrewing the top she takes a swig. “Well, I have a hangover, and the cure for a hangover is to continue drinking...I think.”

“You need help,” I toss over my shoulder as I make my way into her room.

I go through her closet and find some faded-denim shorts and a green cami to wear. I grab some towels and head to the bathroom to shower. After I finish freshening up, I put my belongings into a bag and make my way to the living room. Blake is awake.

“
Mornin', babe.” He pats the cushion beside him.

I go sit beside him and cuddle into the nook of his arm. “
Mornin',” I reply, placing a kiss on his cheek. He's no longer shirtless and in boxers. Now, he's wearing low-cut jeans that hang deliciously off his hips, exposing the V on either side of his pelvis - yum. 

“What's your plans for today? And don't tell me you're locking yourself up in your room again. I'll capture you and make you my filthy sex slave,” he teases, resting his hand on my thigh. The warmth from his touch blocks my concentration; all I can do is shrug my shoulders. My body reacts to him naturally. Maybe I should
try to give myself to him? He's a great guy and I truly believe he won't hurt me like Wyatt did, maybe. When I'm around him, I'm happy. I feel sexy, and I feel loved. Maybe Blake's what I need to help me return to normal, because obviously, I can't do it on my own.

Blake nor Sophie know what Wyatt did to me. They know that he was a long-term boyfriend who broke my heart, but they don't know the entire story; I plan on keeping it a secret - I don't want their pity. I need to rebuild my heart and give it to someone who deserves it, and I can't think of anyone more deserving than Blake. Plus, if I don't give myself to someone soon, my vagina's going to grow cobwebs and close shop. BOB is great, but there's nothing like the real flesh of penis filling you - nothing!

I go into Sophie's bathroom and attempt to tame my mane. I swear trying to tame this shit is like Pee-Wee Herman trying to tame a lion - shit's impossible. Bringing out my weapons of mass destruction - gel, hair spray, blow dryer, and flat iron - I go to work. After an hour or so later, my hair's straight and presentable.

Gathering up my weapons
, I say goodbye to Soph, and go downstairs to join Blake. I toss my bag in the bed of his truck and he meets me at the passenger side door. “Thought you might need a lift,” he says, placing his hands on my hips and pushing me upward.

“Thanks." I climb into the seat and buckle up.

He rocks a four-door Dodge Ram with a hemi, and the lift kit on it is ridiculously high, but who cares...it’s fast and sexy. It’s canary yellow with black racing stripes going up the hood; it's manly. We ride in silence, holding hands the entire time. It takes us ten minutes to arrive at my house from Sophie's. We pull into my driveway and he puts the car in park. As he continues to hold my hand, he turns in his seat to face me.

“Allie, will you go somewhere with me tonight?” His cheeks flush.

“Depends. Will there be water I can have without turning tricks?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, there'll definitely be water, but trick-turning is a must.” Opening his door, he jumps down, comes over and grips my waist, assisting me out of his truck. “I'll pick you up at seven,” he says, reaching into the bed of his truck to gather my belongings.

“Seven's fine, but can you at least tell me what I should wear?”

His hazel eyes gleam as he bites the corner of his bottom lip. “Just be sure to wear your bikini under whatever you decide to put on. Better yet, just come in your bikini - nothing else." He pushes me back against the truck, his cock hardening against my sex.

“I'll see what I can do," I pant.

Collecting my bag, I give him a peck on the cheek, and sprint towards my front door. I don't mean to be abrupt, but my body's experiencing things it hasn't felt in years; it's overwhelming. As I search for my keys, I realize the driveway is empty; Mom's still gone.
  It's a Saturday morning and I know she's off from work.

Once I enter the house, I shoot straight for the kitchen, eager to get my hands on some coffee. In my house, the coffee machine is always ready to go. All I've got to do is turn it on and voila - coffee. Once the coffee is finished brewing, I pour a cup and
head for the deck. Taking a seat in Kyle's favorite place, I lift my eyes to the sky and try to relax. I don’t understand why my life consists of nothing but pain. Fuck, I'm tired of hurting. I wish that I could speak to Kyle face-to-face and hear his voice. There are so many things I need put into perspective, but there's no one here to help me do it. Wyatt crushed my heart when Kyle first got deployed. When he left me, he took most of the shattered pieces to my heart along with him; I need them back, but how do I find them? There's a piece of us walking this Earth, her blue eyes taunting my dreams- I'm not sure I'll ever forgive him, or forget him. But I need to; I've finally found someone deserving of love, but I'm terrified. My heart's like a puzzle that's unfinished and with missing pieces - it's impossible to complete. There aren't any directions on how to put my heart back together again, and I'm afraid he'll give up waiting on me, but most importantly, I'm scared I'll crush his heart just as Wyatt did mine.

After I finish sipping the rest of my coffee, I stand to enter the house. God, how I wish my brother was here now, telling me what an idiot I was being. “I really do miss you, more than you know. I'm lost without you,” I toss over my shoulder with a sigh as I swipe away an escaped tear.

***

LAST NIGHT WAS INCREDIBLE.
I had such a great time. I didn't think of Kyle the entire night, yet my mind easily wanders. I need to get out. Even though I've already taken a shower, I decide to go for my daily run to clear my mind.

I run as far as my legs will carry me, which is about five miles from home. Immediately, I feel clearer, the heaviness lifting from my heart. I decide to walk back home instead of run. I'm out of water and I'm so breathless, I'm dizzy.

Forty-five minutes later, I arrive home, and it's almost three in the afternoon. I make myself a sandwich and head upstairs to get ready for Blake. I go through my dresser and pick out a red string bikini to wear under a black strapless cotton dress. I pull my hair up, throw on some flip-flops and text Blake to let him know that I'm ready, just in case he wants to come by early. Immediately, my phone vibrates.

Blake
: Hell yes! On my way in 10

I can't contain the smile that appears on my face. I'm excited to see where he's taking me. I've never been nervous to go out with Blake before, but tonight, I plan on letting him know that I'm totally and completely into him, and if he'll be patient with me, I'll surrender what's left of my heart, to him.

They say life’s about taking chances, so I'm diving into him.

True to his word, Blake's knocking on my door ten minutes later. As I open the door, I'm greeted by the sexiest smile known to man. He’s shirtless, only wearing swimming trunks. I'm in trouble.

“Hi, gorgeous, ready?” he asks, nodding towards his truck.

He's breathtaking, and he leaves me speechless. Nodding, I follow him outside. As usual, he has to lift me into his truck, but this time he lets out a satisfied moan. “Damn, girl, it's a beautiful site back here,” he sighs, squeezing my ass gently. Talk about splish-splash; thank God, I'm wearing a swimsuit to soak up the dampness between my thighs.

He closes my door and makes his way around to the driver’s seat. We sit in silence taking each other in. Giggling, I break the silence, and our gaze; I can't help it, I've got butterflies fluttering around my stomach. Smiling, he shakes his head and shifts the gear to reverse, backing out of the driveway.

“So, you gonna tell me where we're going?” I ask, staring out the window. I can't look at him right now. I feel the heat spreading in my cheeks, and I'm pretty sure the color that best explains them is fire-engine red.

“Well, first we're going to get some ice cream,” he announces, glancing to me with a cocky grin occupying his face. He knows ice cream's my weakness.

“Ice cream, huh! What if I don't want ice cream?”

He snorts back a laugh. “Please,
you
not wanting ice cream; that'd be the day hell freezes over."  He's right. I'll never turn down that delicious sugary sweetness. You can kick me in the vagina, twist my nipples, and call me Susie; offer me ice cream and all is forgiven.

“True.”

Fifteen minutes later, we pull in to the Baskin Robbins drive-thru. Blake orders a chocolate shake - plain and lame if you ask me. I on the other hand am adventurous, ordering a double scoop of German chocolate cake on a sugar cone; this shit's delicious. It’s definitely something you'd consider smacking your mama for. Turning in my seat to face Blake, I lick my ice cream seductively. “I can NOT believe you went to Baskin Robbins, home of 31 flavors, to order a fucking chocolate shake. Should I be concerned for you? I mean, does this explain your personality? Lame.”

He has one hand on the steering wheel with his other holding his shake as he sips it down. “Chocolate is an all-time favorite for everyone...and if you don't stop teasing me with that cone, I'm going to throw it out the fucking window,” he threatens.

I don’t know what’s coming over me. I suck at showing emotion, but there’s something about Blake that makes me want to break out of this shattered-ass shell that consumes me and try to love again. He makes me want to be a better person. Plus he buys me ice cream: you’re out of your fucking mind if you can’t love a man that buys you ice cream. I believe I’ll test our boundaries, test myself to see how far my heart will allow me to go.

“Oh yeah?” I scoot closer to him, running my tongue around the cone and up the side of my melting scoops. Oh shit, he's pulling over. Snatching my ice cream from my hand, he tosses it out the window. “Hey!” I yell. “You've just signed your death wish with that asshole move.”

Leaning over him I see my ice cream splattered to the ground. He turns me in his lap, adjusting us so that I straddle him. “Death wish, huh? I'd say you have some sort of wish, flaunting that hot-ass bikini at me,” he acknowledges, popping the string to my top. “You should take this off,” he insists, pulling at my dress.

“I should huh?” This is it, this is my trial. Reaching down I begin to slowly pull the dress up just beneath my breasts, exposing my stomach. He begins to rub his fingertips up my core, but I quickly drop the dress and slap his hands away.

“Tease," he calls, urging me back towards the passenger’s seat.

As I buckle my seatbelt, I can't help but smile when I notice the growing bulge between his legs. Taking his hands, he rubs them up and down his face, and then pulls back onto the road, taking us towards our mysterious destination.

Over an hour later, we arrive at Myrtle Beach; the view’s astounding. The sun's just setting and the beach is clear, except for a few people that are packing up getting ready to vacate the beach.  Opening the door to exit the truck, Blake stands next to me with a cooler and blanket tucked under his arm. “C'mon, babe, wrap your arms around my neck and hold on tight. I'll ease you down.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and he gently lowers me to the sand with his free arm, my body gliding down his. “I can get used to this
ya know; sliding down your body and all,” I say, gently dragging my nails down his chest. His body shivers, and I know I've sent chills down his spine.