Break Your Heart (16 page)

I
moved with a singular focus. Crammed my phone in my purse. Dug my keys out and rezipped my coat, which had been hanging open. Locked the apartment behind me and just . . . walked. No destination in mind.

The air was bracing, and the weak sun did little to penetrate the cold. A late winter snap was setting in, and the temperature felt like it had dropped several degrees even since I’d gone inside earlier.

I welcomed the cold, focused on its bite on my cheeks. A creeping numbness had edged its way into my bones, spread through my veins and muscles. In all the arguments I’d had with my parents, not one had ever gone down like that.

I’d never been so thoroughly blasted by my mother or had her tell me she didn’t think she could forgive me for what I’d done. Was she right? Should I have talked to her first?

But I had, kinda. I’d asked her before, back in the trailer, why she had those pills. And she’d fed me some story that most likely wasn’t true; it was possible the ear infection thing had been a total lie. She was hiding pills all over the house. She had to know what she was doing was wrong.

I wasn’t at fault here. I knew that, logically. But the guilt and anger and fear still shocked me so hard I could barely feel anything. It was like all my emotions had collided into one blinding blast that left me shell-shocked.

I proceeded at a steady pace toward the math building. I didn’t pay much attention to my surroundings. Didn’t hear student conversations. All I heard was my mom’s bitter voice, echoing in my head.

I swept inside the building, turned down the hall on autopilot toward Nick’s office. I wasn’t sure if he was still on campus, but if he was, I wanted to see him. Needed to have his arms around me and crack away the cold that had penetrated my bones. The numbness had spread so deeply in me that I couldn’t seem to care about anything right now. Not about people seeing me walk toward his office and what they might think. The secrecy around him and our relationship didn’t seem to matter, not in this moment. Who gave a shit? My mom was messed up and she hated me now, and I couldn’t get her scornful words out of my head.

Nick was the only one who could do that for me.

My fist shook just a touch when I knocked on his door. When it opened, I just stood there in the doorway, staring at him.

The smile that had been on his face when he realized it was me slid away immediately. “Megan, you okay? Come in.”

I entered, and he closed and locked the door behind us. My legs gave out and I collapsed into his guest seat. He leaned against his desk, not saying anything, just keeping that steady gaze fixed on me.

“My dad took my mom off the dorm room project,” I started. My lungs were so tight, it hurt to draw in a breath, and my back bowed with tension. “She called me, angry. Lashed out at me for what I did to her job and her marriage with my dad. Then she said she didn’t think she could ever forgive me.” At that last part, my voice broke. In the warmth of his sunlight I was beginning to thaw, just a touch. The pain seeped in the cracks.

His eyes softened in sympathy. He reached a hand over and took my icy fingers in his. “I’m so sorry.”

The fact that he didn’t immediately try to tell me everything would be okay, or that I did the right thing even if it hurt at the moment, filled me with a small rush of relief. We both knew it was right; he didn’t feel the need to rub it in, vocalize it.

My throat felt raw and sore. He moved toward me at the same time I stood, and our arms wrapped around each other. A rush of tears flew out of my eyes, streaming down my cheeks, drenching his dress shirt. He didn’t care, just kept those strong arms encasing me, those soft lips pressing gentle kisses to my forehead.

I didn’t know how long we stood there. I just knew that minute by minute, that dreadful ache in my heart started to fade. In its place was this man who took the pain away. I would focus on him, on this, and shut out my mom’s voice for now.

Nick leaned his head closer to my ear and whispered, “You are one of the strongest, most intelligent women I’ve ever met. We’ll get through this.”

We.
As in, not just me alone.

I peeled off my coat and tossed it on the chair behind me. Wrapped my arms around him again, our bodies pressed together, my heart throbbing almost painfully. “I don’t feel strong right now, especially since I just cried all over you.”

“Strength doesn’t mean doing everything alone,” he replied in a smooth voice. “It can also mean knowing when you need help. Even if it’s just another person to talk to.”

I nodded, stared up into his eyes. The little flecks of black in the dark brown irises I had grown to know so well. The slight lines that fanned out on the outsides. The light dusting of facial hair that emerged as day transitioned to night.

Now my throat tightened for a different reason, and my heart pounded. Tears flecked the ends of my eyelashes, and I reached up to wipe them away.

His thumb came up to stroke my jaw. The gesture made my heart flare. The thumb swept across my lower lip, and I sighed, parted my mouth slightly.

I didn’t want to be sad or hurt anymore. I wanted to feel good. With him. Right now. Damn the consequences. Damn the risks.

“My mom’s brother is an alcoholic,” he said suddenly. His breaths mirrored mine, shallow and uneven. His eyes turned down a bit in the corners. “He’s struggled with it for years, since I was a little kid. Hiding bottles all over the house, drinking when no one was around. Showing up to family dinners drunk. A few years ago, his wife ended up leaving him, taking their son with her.”

“I just don’t understand it,” I told him as I shook my head. “Why?”

He shrugged. “If we’re not addicted to something, I don’t think we can ever understand. Every once in a while he surfaces in my life. Seems sober for a while, and I start to think it might be different. Then he goes on a bender, which makes him beat himself up and sends him deeper down the rabbit hole. Not to mention he’s too stubborn to stay in a rehab facility when he actually does try to get help. He keeps checking himself out early, saying he’s fine, but then he falls back into it again after a while. My family gets so mad.” I heard the undertone of hurt in his voice and reached up to stroke the back of his neck. He closed his eyes, leaned into my touch. “Yanno, I don’t ever talk about this with anyone because I don’t want people to judge him, if that makes sense.”

“Totally. I haven’t told anyone about my mom. No one but you.”

He looked at me and blinked. His lips pressed together. “I hope you know I’m not judging you. Or her. I’m glad your dad is there to support her and that he’s taking this seriously, because I didn’t want to go to the administrators about this. It’s gonna be rough while she recovers, but if she’s half as smart as the daughter she’s raised, she’ll take a step back and realize she’s hurting the people around her, not to mention herself.”

I couldn’t help it; I leaned up on my toes and kissed him.

It was soft and unassuming at first, just a brushing of lips against each other. More of a gesture of mutual comforting than anything else. Then something shifted between us, a charge of electricity that crackled in the air.

I clenched his collar a fraction tighter and heard his sigh, the exhaled air softly caressing my mouth. Then he leaned in for another kiss. Nudged my lips open with a swipe of his tongue and tasted me.

All my tension and anxiety fell away as I gave in to the moment. Our arms wrapped around each other, bodies pressed together. Everything about him intoxicated me. I couldn’t get enough.

“God, you drive me crazy, Megan,” he rasped as he ran his tongue along my jaw. “But I don’t want to take advantage of you when you’re upset. We should stop.” He started to pull away.

I gripped him tighter. “No, don’t. Please.” I knew I sounded pleading, but I didn’t care. “I need you.” I pressed a hard kiss to his mouth, willing him with everything in me to keep going. My body was almost shaking with desire. The pain had faded away, and all I could feel was the ache of my hunger for him.

Nick groaned; I could see the conflict on his face for just a moment before he gave a look that seemed close to surrender. His voice was husky when he said, “Something about you is so tempting. I can’t resist you. And I don’t want to.” He sucked my lower lip into his mouth, and I rubbed my breasts along his chest. Opened to him and dragged my fingers through his hair.

“Then don’t,” I whispered, letting my arousal show clearly in my voice, my face, my body. I didn’t want him to push me away. I wanted him to remind me how to feel good.

We kissed for I wasn’t sure how long, just losing ourselves in each other. His hands gripped my hips, kneaded the rounded flesh of my butt. I dropped a hand to cup his hardness, and his erection twinged beneath my exploring fingers.

Nick ripped his mouth away. “You’re playing with fire, baby.”

The words made me shiver. I fingered the zipper of his slacks, then lowered them. Slid my hand into the slit and stroked him with just his briefs separating our flesh. It wasn’t enough. I fumbled with the pants button and undid it, exposing more of his length to me.

I could almost feel his pulse in my hand. His breathing became ragged, panting. He didn’t speak, just stood there, fingers tight on my ass.

“I want you right now,” I said in a harsh whisper. “Please.”

The pulse on the side of his throat jumped. A dark gleam lit in his eyes. “We’re in my office. Someone could knock on the door at any moment.”

“We can be quiet,” I promised. “No one will know.” I turned back against the desk and spread my legs to nestle him between my thighs.

His body was hot and hard. He lifted my ass and dropped me on the edge of the desk. I wrapped my legs around him. “We shouldn’t do this,” he whispered in my ear before slicking his tongue along the flesh.

I arched into him and tugged his shirt out of his pants. “I don’t care.” I was almost blind with my hunger. Right now, I couldn’t stop even if a tornado touched down on the building. I needed this. Needed Nick.

Apparently, that was enough to convince him, because before I knew it, my pants were opened and being pushed down to my ankles. I kicked my boots off, then my jeans and panties. The smoothly polished wooden desk was slightly cool beneath my ass. A frantic urgency had overtaken me. I had to have him inside me. Now.

When I went to shove his pants down, he dug into his back pocket, grabbed his wallet and whipped out a condom. That made me grin.

“Prepared for emergency situations, professor?” I said in a teasing tone.

His eyes grew dark as he stared at me. “I shouldn’t be turned on by you saying that.”

“And yet, you are. I want you, Dr. Muramoto.” Oh, I was pushing every boundary in sight right now and I didn’t give a shit. I wanted him half as turned on as I was, wanted to escape into the sheer, mind-numbing pleasure of having sex with Nick. This was so wrong, so amazingly, sexily wrong.

He growled and made quick work of ripping off his pants and boxer briefs, then his shirt. He stood there, beautifully naked before me, and I couldn’t breathe. There was lust in his eyes . . . and more. Affection. Warmth.

Respect.

I saw it all on his face, and I realized right then that I was madly in love with this man.

I loved Nick Muramoto. I loved him so much, my heart hurt with the understanding of the depth of my feelings.

And I was scared to death to let him know. So I dropped my gaze to his bobbing erection, watched him roll the condom on. I took off my shirt, attempted to get my roller-coaster emotions under control.

We weren’t at the point yet where I could tell him the depth of what I was feeling. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t secretly savor it.

Nick came back to me, pressed against me, and I scooted myself as close to the edge as I could without falling off. I leaned back, breasts thrust in the air, hands gripping the far end of the table, legs spread before him in invitation.

His breathing was so ragged, it undid me. “You’re so damn gorgeous. I want to devour you.”

“Yes,” I whispered, careful to keep my voice hushed, though I longed to scream his name right now. “Please. Take me, Nick.”

One smooth thrust, and he was inside me. Everything clicked into place in that single perfect moment. The raging roar of my emotions, the feeling of being completely filled by the man I loved beyond anyone else. His hands cupping my waist, his mouth nuzzling my breasts.

There was love and sensuality and desire spilling into us, and I savored it all.

He withdrew, then slipped back in. I could smell the rich scent of sex building, feel his muscles clenching beneath my hands. He groaned for a split second, then bit his lip.

“Stay quiet, Dr. Muramoto,” I ground out into his ear.

His body grew even tighter, his thrusting more ragged. Each stroke uncurled that delicious sensation in my belly.

“You’re a bad girl, Megan,” he said, timing his words with his hard thrusts, and those words almost sent me over the edge. One hand reached up to caress my breasts, drawing the tight tip into a hard bead.

“Right there,” I panted. It was so hard to keep my voice down. I was so close. “Don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping until you come.” He slammed hard, and the friction made me dig my heels into his ass.

I dropped a hand between us to stroke my tender flesh.

“Give it to me, Megan.” He sounded so dark and quiet and sexy that my whole body clenched with throbbing need. “I can smell how turned on you are. You’re going to come so hard.”

I bit his shoulder to silence my words as my orgasm ripped through me. Because right when I came, I almost cried out,
I love you.

As my orgasm ebbed, Nick’s thrusts grew more insistent. I wrapped my sweat-slicked body against him, pressed kisses to his mouth. I could tell from the way he moved and breathed that he was close. So deliciously close. After a minute he stiffened, jerked, his hot breaths pouring between my lips.