Break Me

Like every day since the first, he is home before me, waiting by the elevator door when it opens, leaning against the wall so the first thing I see is him. The look in his eyes is fierce, his chest tightens, his jaw squares, and the muscles in it flex. Then his tongue swipes quickly across his lips as his nostrils flare. His feet are bare and so is his chest. He wears low-slung shorts or sweatpants.

He looks at me the same, regardless if I am in scrubs or naked. His green eyes bore into me with hunger. His kiss is possessive. His touch is protective. His thrusts scream that he is claiming me, marking me, ensuring that I will never forget him.

I never will.

We eat dinner, staring at each other. I look down when I feel like I may crawl over the table and demand to feel him.

“How was work?” I ask.

“I hate my fucking job,” he answers point-blank.

“Then why do it?” I ask before taking a drink of water.

“Paycheck,” he answers then takes another bite.

“I wish you loved your job,” I say quietly.

He smirks and shakes his head then points his fork at me. “How was your day?”

I shrug. “Nobody died.”

He smiles and nods. “That’s a good day.”

I smile back because his is spectacular and the dimple is even more so.

His smile straightens. “Bennett?”

Oh, hell, how could I forget?

“I agreed to go to dinner.”

I watch as his eyes narrow.

“When?”

“Tomorrow, five o’clock.”

He stands up and grabs his plate then mine and stalks to the sink, dropping the plates in. “I’m gonna step out for a bit.”

I jump up and walk to him. “Where?”

He holds his hand up, stopping me. “Don’t.”

“Let me go with you,” I begin, feeling anxiety build.

He shakes his head and starts to step around me, and I move in front of him.

“I’m telling you I need a fucking minute, Lo,” he snaps.

“Angel.” I use his endearment to me and remain unmoving.

He lets out a deep breath, crosses his arms, and leans back against the wall. “You don’t cage a man like me.” I smile, refusing to believe him, and he gasps. “I told you I’m a bad man, Lo.”

I step toward him, shaking my head from side to side. “You’re not bad to me.”

He looks up with hunger in his eyes as I walk closer.

“I’m not afraid of you.” I take his face in my hands. “Eyes on me.”

He looks down, his eyebrow cocked.

“I agreed to go to dinner.” He growls at that, and it sparks desire inside me. “I told him you would be coming, too.”

His eyebrow rises higher.

“I need to do this,” I tell him. “They were good to me.”

He sighs, still not saying anything.

“You need to be there, because . . .” I shrug and look down, feeling vulnerable. His fingers touch my chin and lift it, and our eyes meet. “I need you.”

His body tenses, but he doesn’t move. He stands as strong and tall as a statue.

“I need you, too, you know. I need to feel you, to be one with you. I realized some things the day you broke into my house and saved me from”—I shrug—“myself. You have to know, Jason, that you and me . . . This is it.” I close my eyes after using the words he used with me, the words that play over and over in my head almost hourly. When he doesn’t reply, I say it out loud, like a prayer begging to be answered. “Home.”

“Eyes,” he snarls.

I give him what he asks for, opening my eyes and searching his as they search mine.

“This is home. Decisions get made together. And listen to this really well, Lo.” He grabs my hips, lifting me, before he stalks to the kitchen island where he sits me on it, gruffly putting his hands on either side of me and leaning in so his nose almost touches mine. “Never ask me to sit across from the man who fucked your sweet, innocent, mourning pussy. A sick fuck who touched your body, making you pretend to be less than the angel you are. You don’t know the monster inside of me. You don’t know that I want nothing more than to rip him apart, limb by motherfucking limb.”

My pulse quickens; my chest rises and falls rapidly; my body is near combusting from how badly I want him.

“Fuck me,” I beg.

He growls then laughs a haunting laugh before reaching behind me, and with one swipe of his arm, he sends everything on the counter tumbling to the ground. Excitement grows hotter and hotter inside me.

He pushes my back so I am lying on the hard granite countertop, then grabs my scrub bottoms and rips them from my body. I start to sit up.

“Stay. Fucking. Down.” He covers my entrance with his mouth, and then his tongue circles my clit.