Until We Fly (The Beautifully Broken) (13 page)

“You get three guesses,” I tell him as I pull his shorts down to his knees and lean over him.  I trail my tongue from the base of his dick to the tip.  I glance up at him, my eyes locked with his as I trace a circle around the head of his cock. “What’s your first guess?”

He swallows hard, then leans his head against the seat, closing his eyes as my mouth closes around the head of his dick.

“Jesus,” he mutters, as I stroke the length of him as I suck. 

For just one split moment, an ugly memory erupts in my head, one of a wrinkled penis and fetid breath.  I cringe, and grip Brand’s dick harder than necessary.  His eyes open. 

“Sorry,” I mumble against the skin of his dick.  I soften my grip and lick him again. 

This is Brand.  This is Brand.  This is Brand. 

He’s brave and good and true.  He would never hurt me. 

I suck. 

He swallows. 

I glide my hand along his length, and cup his balls.

He swallows again. 

I marvel at his hardness.  I inhale his scent.  I lick the velvet tip.

He grips my back. 

“I want to be inside you,” he murmurs, soft and husky. 

“Not yet,” I tell him. 

I want to taste him.  I want his goodness inside of me. I want to swallow it.  Everything about him is just so fucking
good.
  I want to absorb it in every way that I can.

I bob my head faster, my hand quickening its pace. 

Brand groans again, his head falling back against the seat. 

“I’m going to come,” he warns me, his voice stilted. 

I move faster and then I pull on his balls. 

Give it to me.

He comes in my mouth, spurting hotly, his dick pulsing. 

I suck it all in, swallowing, swallowing. 

I lick him clean. 

When I sit up, I smooth my hair back into place, as though I’d simply been out for a walk in the breeze. 

“You ready for lunch?” I ask casually. 

Brand smiles with his eyes closed. 

“Maybe I’ll take a nap first.”

I punch him lightly on the arm. “Not even.  You’ve got to regain your strength.  I’ve got work for you to do in a while.”

He opens one eye now, staring at me lazily. “Oh?”

I nod.  “Yep. Let’s go, Killien.”

We take the picnic basket to the table on the lookout, and sit chewing on our sandwiches in the sun.  In front of us, the lake glistens and crashes against the shore.

“I love it here,” I tell him. 

He looks at me in surprise.  “I thought you said you hated it?”

I shake my head.  “No. I just hate being at my parents’ house.”

He takes a bite.  “Then why are you?  You’re an adult.  You can do what you want.”

Tightness pulls at my chest, the way it always does when I think about it. 

“It’s not that simple,” I tell him.  “I wish it were.”

Brand falls silent and we eat. 

When we’re finished, I throw the trash away, then walk back to him, sliding up between his legs. 

I stare into his gorgeous face. 

“I don’t know what changed your mind,” I announce to him. “I know you were dead-set against being with me.  But I don’t care what it was.  All I care about is the fact that you’re in front of me right now.  And you’re mine for the summer.”

I announce it like I’m staking claim, because I am. 

And then I pull him to me, inhaling his scent right before I kiss him as deep as I can.  I push my body into his, my hips into his.  My tongue tangling with his.  My body and his body. 

Nora and Brand, forever and ever and ever. 

Or at least, until the end of the summer. 

Until I have to let him go before I taint him. 

Glancing around, I find that there’s still no one in sight.

An evil thought comes to me and I grin.

“You recovered yet?”

Brand raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t have time to answer before I pull his shorts down a bit. 

He yanks backward, staring at me in shock.  But I don’t give him time to process it.  I drop my shorts, then sit immediately on his lap, without pause or foreplay.

I slide down the length of his already hard dick, my softness and warmth enveloping him. 

“Jesus,” Brand sighs again.  I smile against his neck as I cling to him. 

“You’re going to come in me this time,” I tell him softly. 

“Yes, m’am,” he answers huskily, lifting my hips with his hands as we rock together.  I love the way his hands can span my waist.  I love the way he makes me feel small and delicate and feminine.  I love the way he fills me up. 

I sigh into his mouth as his tongue invades mine. 

We’re in the middle of broad daylight and neither one of us cares. 

We rock together until Brand finally throws his head back with his release. 

And then he holds me close to his chest, while we both regain our bearings.

Slowly, the world comes back into focus and I glance up at him. 

“See?  You’re not going to know what you did before me.”

He closes his eyes in the sun and suddenly my own words scare me. 

Because maybe I won’t either. 

Chapter Twelve

Brand

I’m an asshole. 

I’m an asshole.

I’m an asshole. 

That’s all I can think as we drive back toward the cottage, with the radio up and the wind in our hair. 

It’s a perfect day, and I just fucked Nora Greene in the middle of broad daylight, after basically agreeing to a summer fling.

What the fuck am I doing?

Nora chooses this moment to reach over and grab my hand, holding it tightly while she drives.  She doesn’t look at me, she just gazes at the road and then the lake, then the road again. 

Her red hair gleams under the sun, her skin luminous and creamy and my gut tightens. 

What the fuck?  Nothing good can come of this. 

Why, then, does it feel so good?

Her hand feels perfectly at home inside of mine. 

And you weren’t arguing about your dick being inside of her mouth, either
, my fucking devil side tells me persuasively. 

I sigh. 

This summer will probably kill me.

Or condemn me to hell. 

At the moment, though, I don’t care.  Everyone around me has gotten where they are today not by thinking of other people, but by thinking of themselves.  Putting themselves first.  Maybe it’s time I start. 

Being with Nora feels good.

Isn’t that enough of a reason?

The silence is comfortable and familiar as we drive to the rental car company and exchange cars and then head back for the cottage.  We’ve managed to kill most of the day with driving, but it was nice. 

Nora turns down Honeysuckle Drive.  As we pass my mother’s house, I grit my teeth, as I remember that her life is practically in my hands.  Her life as she knows it, anyway.  I sigh. 

Fuck it. 

She doesn’t deserve my help. 

But just as quickly as I have the thought, I think something else. No matter how much of a bitch she is, I don’t want to give her the power to make me be someone I’m not.  And I’m not an asshole. 

Nora glances over at me. 

“You know what I’ve recently decided?”  

I shake my head.  Of course I don’t.

Nora stares straight ahead as she speaks.

“I’ve decided that I can’t help how people treat me.  All I can do is handle myself… and not let their actions reduce me.  No matter what happens, I’m going to be me.  They can’t take that away.”

What a curious thing to say.  It’s almost as if she can read my thoughts. 

“That’s very wise,” I nod.  “But easier in theory than practice.”

Nora puts the car in park outside the cottage.  “I know.  Trust me.  Wanna watch me practice?”

Puzzled, I start to ask what she’s talking about, but then realize that another car is in the drive, a sleek black Mercedes. 

Turning, I find Maxwell Greene sitting on the porch, waiting for us, dressed in an expensive suit and shiny loafers.  He’s as out of place on that porch as anyone I’ve ever seen.  And from the expression on his face, he doesn’t want to be here, either.  I can see from the way he’s looking at me that he doesn’t approve of me. 

At all.

 I clench my jaw. 

Fuck him. 

I don’t need anyone’s approval.

I climb from the car and grab my crutches as Nora greets him. 

“Hi dad,” she calls cheerfully, but the smile on her face is forced.  I wonder why she hates him so much?  Because it’s clear to me that she does. 

Her father scowls.

“What are you doing here, Nora?”

He doesn’t even bother to greet her, as if she’s too unimportant to waste his breath. 

Nora flinches, but covers it up. 

“As you know, Brand was injured when he was
saving my life,”
she places emphasis on those words.  “I’m here to help him while he’s recovering.  It’s the least I can do.”

As Nora’s father rolls his eyes, I remember the day of the accident, and how I’d glanced behind me and saw him and his wife, talking to the EMTs.  Nora’s mother was anxious and hysterical, while Maxwell was as cool as he could be.  Almost unconcerned. 

What kind of father does that?

I stick out my hand.  “I don’t think we’ve officially ever met.  Brand Killien.”

Maxwell stares at my hand for a minute, almost in distaste, before he stiffly takes it. 

“Maxwell Greene,” he replies gruffly.  He looks immediately away to Nora. 

“It’s time to come home.  You’re supposed to be relaxing this summer, getting ready for the Fall.  And William is at our house.  He’s waiting to talk to you.”

Nora instantly goes pale.  The horror on her face is obvious and very, very revealing. 

She opens her mouth, then closes it. 

I step forward. 

“I don’t mean to intrude, but Nora promised me that she would take me to Physical Therapy this evening.”

Her father barely glances at me.  “Well, I guess you’ll have to get someone else to do it.  Nora, I’ll meet you back at home.”

You’re welcome for saving your daughter’s life, asshole.

He starts to walk toward his car. 

Nora is frozen, but then she glances at me. 

I nod.
 Be strong, Nora. Don’t let him control you.

She looks into my eyes, searching for something, something I can’t name.  She must find it, because she squares her shoulders and takes a step.

 “Actually, dad, I can’t come home right now.  I’ve got an obligation here.  I gave my word, and I need to keep it.  Isn’t that how you raised me?”

Her voice starts out tremulous, but grows steadier.  Maxwell stops in his tracks, then turns slowly. 

I can see the displeasure on his face, from the idea that his daughter dared to defy him. 

There’s a coldness in his eyes that is familiar to me.  I used to see it in my own father.

He takes a step, and I move slightly in front of Nora. 

I stare into his face. 

If you want her, you’ll come through me, asshole.

Humor fills his eyes.

“Are you going to do something, gimp?” Maxwell asks, his voice quiet and even.  I smile at this.  I could level this guy out with two gimpy legs and one hand tied behind my back.  But I don’t say that. I don’t have to.  He knows.    

I stand my ground because actions speak louder than words. 

Maxwell stares at his daughter, his gaze unyielding. 

Finally, he turns.

“We’ll discuss this later, Nora.  Your mother is hosting a dinner on Friday. You’ll be there.”

Without even looking at us again, he gets into his car and drives away. 

I hear Nora exhale from behind me. 

I turn around and stare into her face.  She’s still pale, still shaky. 

“Are you ok?”

She nods. 

“Yeah.  Thank you for… thank you.”

I nod.  “I don’t like bullies.”

 “Me either,” she murmurs.  She stretches on her toes to get the house key and unlocks the door.

As we go in, she turns to me.  “I think I have to go to my mother’s dinner.  Will you go with me?”

Her voice is strained, her eyes empty. 

I immediately agree.  “Of course.”

“Thank you.  I’m going to… take a shower.  Are you ok out here for a while?”

“Of course.”

I watch her walk away, her back stiff, her hands fisted at her sides. 

She’s in the shower for a long time. 

The physical therapist comes and does his thirty minutes of PT with me before Nora finally emerges from the bathroom, steamy and clean. 

“How did PT go?” she asks curiously as she steeps some tea in a china cup. I notice that her arms are red.  She scrubbed them with force.

I shrug.  “It’s ok.  I know what to expect.  This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Nora sits in the chair next to me by the window. 

“Was your leg really shattered before?”

“Pretty much.  I think I’ve got more metal and screws in it than bone.  But it’s okay.  I can walk, which is more than a lot of guys.”

Without meaning to, I think of Mad Dog, my old colleague and friend, whose legs were blown off in front of me.  He hadn’t survived. 

“This dinner,” I change the subject.  “What’s it for?”

Nora shrugs. “I don’t know.  My father makes my mother host dinner parties for his business associates.  It’s hard to say who will be there or what this one is for.”

I eye her carefully.  “Will William be there?”

Nora tenses up, her hands gripping her china cup.  “Probably.”

I don’t answer, although I’m even more assured now that I need to go with her to the dinner.

After a moment, Nora speaks. “What my dad said… about you being a gimp… don’t listen to him.  You’re amazing.  Your little pinky is more of a man than my father will ever be.”

I have to smile at this.  “It’s okay. I don’t usually let assholes influence the way I see myself.”

She nods.  “Good. Because sometimes I worry that you don’t see yourself the way I do.”