Broken and Screwed 2 (BS #2)

He reached me and slid his hands under my legs. They went all the way under my cheeks and he moved between my legs. He didn’t even need to nudge them aside. I opened them. I was eager about it. As he bent over me, his lips came down, my heart wanted to explode out of me.

So long.

I had waited for this for so long.

I licked my lips, but he didn’t press his to mine. I wanted him to, badly. As he hung there, suspended in the air, I murmured, “Jesse.”

“Can you tell what I’m doing now?”

My arms lifted and I wound them around his neck. I was the one that pulled him closer against me. He fit there perfectly and I lifted my legs to lock behind his waist. One of his hands fell to my thigh. He burned a trail over my skin as he slid his hand to my core. He was slow and purposeful. He watched me the entire time, judging and measuring me.

My lips brushed against his as I said, “I knew before we came up here.”

His chest lifted and he sucked in a deep breath. “Are you sure about this, Alex?”

I nodded. I couldn’t talk. I needed this too much. Or I needed him. I wasn’t sure, but as he lowered his lips to mine—finally—I gave him everything. I wanted to forget everything. There was no brother. There were no parents. There were no friends. There was no loss or mourning or grieving. No sadness. Only heat. That was all there was between us. Even the pain that occurred was minimal to what I’d felt for the last three days.

That night I gave myself to him. I just didn’t know the extent of it until later.

CHAPTER ONE

Two years and two months later

When I went to Jesse’s house, I wasn’t expecting to find a naked chick on his couch. I knew it was his house. As I walked in, there was a giant portrait of him and my brother in the foyer. He must’ve had someone paint it from a picture at some party. Both wore easygoing grins and their affection was obvious. They were happy. Ethan was happy. It stopped me in my tracks, but I pushed it down. I couldn’t handle that. Nope. Rage. Rage was my friend right now, and the girl who was straddling Jesse on the couch was going to be a recipient of my rage.

A head of black hair sat underneath her, and he moved to kiss up the girl’s neck. As she leaned back with her eyes closed, his hand lifted to cup her breast. A moan slipped from her as he ran his thumb over it. As she gasped, her eyes opened a slit. It was enough. She saw me and horror flashed over her. She belted out a scream and scrambled off Jesse’s lap to the couch.

“What the fuuu-?” Jesse whipped off the couch and whirled around. His face was contorted in fury, but then shock stopped him.

It stopped me as well.

That wasn’t Jesse.

I clamped a hand over my eyes and turned away. “I’m so, so, so, so sorry, Cord. Oh my gawd. I’m really sorry.” Muttering more curses, I tried to run from the room but smacked into a wall.

He spewed a few more curses as the girl cried out, “Who the hell is that?!”

I frowned when I heard the snippy tone. She had every right to be pissed. I couldn’t fault her.

She continued, “You said we had the house to ourselves. Who is this girl?”

“It’s no one.” His voice faded for a second. “Here. Put this on, Chandra.”

She growled at him.

“Chandra.”

“You owe me for this,” she snapped at him.

I waited, still against the wall with my hand over my eyes. I breathed in and out with a brief hope that maybe he’d forget I was there and go after her. This was too awkward.

“You can look now.”

He hadn’t.

The awkwardness lifted a notch. I could tell he was pissed.

My hands didn’t move. “Are you dressed?”

“Yes.” He sounded exhausted and I peeked. There were bags underneath his eyes as he sat on the couch, leaning forward on his knees. He wiped a hand over his face and regarded me with narrowed eyes. “You’re looking for Jesse?”

I nodded.

His head dropped to his hands and his shoulders bunched together. He was still shirtless, but his shorts rode farther up his thigh, his very manly thigh. As he didn’t say anything for a moment, my eyes roamed over him. I couldn’t help it. He had filled out since the last time I saw him, around nine months ago.

“You look good,” I remarked lightly as I perched on the end of the sectional.

“We’ve been training like crazy.” His head lifted and he grimaced, rubbing a hand over his jaw. It clenched under the movement.

I searched for where the girl might’ve gone. “Who was that?”

“No one.”

From the soft tone of regret, I grimaced again. “That wasn’t ‘no one’. That was someone. Is the infamous Cord Tatum off the market?” I teased, “I know someone who goes to school an hour away that’ll be disappointed.”

“Who?”

“Marissa.” I frowned. He didn’t know that?

“Oh. Her.”

And judging by how he said “her,” I knew Cord Tatum had definitely moved on. I took notice. This was a new guy in front of me.

“Jesse’s not here.”

“I gathered.”