Broken Compass

Home. I like the word on her lips. I like the towel wrapped around her curves that’s baring so much of her freckled skin, revealing her shapely legs, her rounded shoulders, the shadow between her breasts.

My body reacts instantly, like every time she’s around, tightening my muscles and hardening my dick. God, I want her. If only I could push her up against the wall and sink into her.

If only the thought didn’t excite me as much as it made me sick to my stomach.

Swallowing, I close my eyes and rub a hand over them. “Yeah. I’m gonna turn in. Night, Syd.”

“Nate, wait. I wanted to talk to you.”

“I don’t think—”

“Please.”

She enters my room and I stumble backward until I land on my bed, throwing my hands back to brace myself.

I growl. “What?”

“Look…” She holds her towel in place with one hand over her boobs. It draws my eyes there, and my

dick gives a hard throb, trying to drive a hole through my pants.

“I am looking.”

A blush spreads over her cheeks, her neck. “Crap… I’ll go get dressed.”

“No.” I want her there, in front of me, “No. Don’t.” Cuz I want to keep looking. I want so much with her. If only I could reach out and take it, take her.

This is fucked up…

The blush reaches the top of her breasts, and I watch, fascinated, as the twin mounds rise and fall on a breath.

See, with this girl I always get hard. I’m so damn hard right now, but just the thought of rolling her under me, kissing her senseless, spreading her legs and… and fucking her…

Cold sweat breaks on my brow and I swallow hard. Jesus fuck. My eyes blur again and dizziness hits me. It’s coming. There’s no stopping it now.

Joy. “So what did you wanna tell me, Shortcake?”

She’s giving me a serious look, so at odds with her fluffy towel and the cute ringlets of hair, the sexy curves, the pretty beestung mouth. “I’m worried about West.”

“West.” I bitter snort escapes me, because wasn’t I thinking of him just now? And wish I wasn’t. “I don’t give a fuck.”

“Don’t do that, Nate. Don’t pretend not to care.”

Anger flares in my chest, making my blood pump faster in my veins, twisting the vise of pain around my head. “I said I don’t give a fuck. He chose to stay behind, and you know it.”

“And you know his reasons. Heck, you named them for us that night. West has his own problems to deal with.”

Lights flash in the room and I groan. Not this. Not now. “You fucking kidding me? He has problems? Stop making up stories, Syd.”

“I’m not.” Her eyes glitter, furious, reflecting my own anger. “And you know it. You know how his granddad treats him, how his sister is so messed up. You should know better than anyone. You’re his best friend.”

“Was,” I say bitterly. “I was his best friend. Poor little lost boy. His granddad doesn’t love him. I’m brokenhearted.”

“Damn you, Nathaniel Brady,” she whispers, her hand clenching in her towel, brows knit. “You of all people shouldn’t compare heartaches.”

“What does that mean?” My head is pounding so hard I think I’m gonna throw up. “Shit. You know what? Save it.”

“What did your dad do to you, Nate?”