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Authors: J. L. Brooks

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

Distractions (18 page)

BOOK: Distractions
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lavender scented soap I used to lather it

away. My moment of peace was

interrupted by the sound of the door

opening and swinging shut. I remained

frozen as I heard the lid of the toilet bang

loudly against the tank. The desire to see

who was on the other side of the curtain

was overrun by sheer panic; I wasn’t

alone.

After a few moments, I witnessed

fingers curl around the edge of the thin

fabric separating me from the intruder,

the world moving in slow motion as it

pulled away. I pressed my back further

into the tile as I dropped into the fetal

position. All I could think of was to

brace for the sensation of a knife

entering my body or some other

gruesome act straight out of a movie.

Everything about this situation was

wrong, and I was still too intoxicated to

grasp any sense of reality. I allowed my

eyes to open slightly under the arms

shielding my body. All I could see was a

man with muscular calves stepping into

the tub without a word.

“Please don’t hurt me.” My plea

sounded pathetic.

I should have been fighting for my

life, but I still couldn’t move. He shifted

closer to hover over me, gently running a

hand down the side of my cheek. I finally

allowed myself to look up and see his

face. I should have kept my eyes closed.

I couldn’t take back what I was seeing;

this wasn’t possible, and how could this

be

happening?

Easy…this

wasn’t

happening. This wasn’t real. I would

wake up soon – I was just really drunk. I

was swearing to God I would stop as

soon as he let me out of this dream. I

told myself anything I could to stop the

fear that was racing in my veins. He

opened his mouth to speak; perfect white

teeth formed a dangerous smile.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Perhaps it was his tone, or

reconciling myself to the situation at

hand, this was all my doing. It was no

accident I found myself in this position. I

slowly slid my back up the tile before

facing the man next to me.

“Why are you here?” My hair hid

my face as I kept my head lowered. I

watched as his hand reached towards

me, placing it under my chin firmly to

meet his stare.

“You asked for this,” he said

between gritted teeth with certainty.

I closed my eyes tightly, searching

for something to hold onto. My back

slammed against the shower wall with

force, causing my head to smack against

the tile. I felt his mouth press urgently

into mine, his tongue probing between

my lips. Strong hands held my wrist

above my head, the fight within me

failing to surface.

“Connor…” His name evoked a

shudder as it quietly escaped my mouth.

Suddenly, I was starting to remember…

Chapter 17 -

Morning

I poured soap on the sponge that

was sitting on the rail of the marble tiled

shower wall. Timid fingers raised it

above the wounds on his shoulder and

gently squeezed the warm water and

suds across the openings on his skin,

making him wince. I grazed my fingers

around the tender areas, careful not to

disturb the clots that stopped the

bleeding. My hands slowly dragged the

soft sponge down his muscular biceps to

his wrist, repeating the motions on the

other side before coming up around his

neck, then over his chest and torso.

I knew this body long ago and I was

familiar with the curves and bends of

every part, but now I was a stranger to

the stories forever encrypted along his

appendages. Scars and ink carved

images into the otherwise perfect skin.

Memories surfaced in flashes, tangles of

past and present. His eyes were closed,

one arm braced against the wall, the

other gently massaging my waist.

“Why is this familiar? I whispered

as I witnessed a smile creep across his

lips.

Placing myself into a semi-

embrace, moving up and down his back,

he pulled me closer to him with a throaty

growl, growing erect against my

stomach. His hand traveled towards my

breast and gently circled the nipple with

light fingertips. My forehead was now

leaned into the crook of his neck, my lips

so deliciously close to the gash created

just hours before. I turned my head and

gently kissed around the damage I had

caused.

With his chest, he pushed me

against the wall, placing his hands on

either side of my head. I studied the

stubble of facial hair casting a shadow

across his jaw with my fingers. The pad

of my thumb slowly traced the fullness

of his ruby lips. The piercing green eyes

framed in lush brown lashes never

wavered

from

my

gaze.

My

concentration was broken when I started

to feel a hand slide down my sides and

in between my legs. Pain went shooting

through my core as a slick finger parted

my center. As I exhaled deeply through

the sensation, he leaned into whisper,

“Are you okay?”

I pouted my lips coyly. “What if I

said no?”

His hand immediately stopped

moving. I could see concern flash across

his face. Letting the tension carry out, I

couldn’t help but grin widely.

“Don’t make me bite you again,” I

teased. Despite the discomfort, pleasure

rippled through my abdomen. I felt

myself growing warm, tightening around

the fingers that were gently exploring my

flower.

“If you come half as hard as you

did earlier, I will gladly take another

scar on your behalf.”

My face became somber as I

glanced over at his shoulder. “I’m really

sorry,” I whispered. I watched his face

become serious as my hand reached

down for his hardened member, causing

him to draw in a swift breath. His pupils

began to dilate as he stared at me with

great intensity.

“Make it up to me then.”

My hand slowly started squeezing,

rocking back and forth, methodically in

the water that was growing cooler. I

wanted him. I honestly could not

remember much of last night. Fragments

fought to the surface, trying to give me a

complete picture, but the alcohol refused

to allow the pieces to connect. Based off

the evidence of our mutual body damage,

this was a continuation from earlier in

the evening. His lips found mine, pulling

me from my internal monologue. Kiss,

taste, lick, suck…

“Come over here,” he said softly.

He held my hips and moved behind

me so his back was against the wall,

pulling me flush against him. His hand

glided up along my spine to my neck,

fingers wrapping around the hair at the

nape. His other arm motioned for me to

bend forward where he then gave me the

command, “Wait.”

Entering me incredibly slowly, he

felt my body tense in pain. I cringed as I

felt the burning sensation tear through

me. Once inside, he allowed my body to

adjust and relax before moving again.

His arms gently pulled me up against his

chest to a standing position, and then he

reached out with one hand and grabbed

the removable showerhead from its

stand, pointing the water towards the

floor as his other hand adjusted the

pressure and setting.

Stopping at a medium spray, which

concentrated from just the center, his

hand guided the shower across my breast

and stomach, while remaining deep

within me. I could feel his hips flex ever

so slightly, exercising great restraint.

The water was trailing up and down my

thighs, then over my stomach again. My

head fell back against his shoulders,

savoring the warmth. Just as my eyes

closed, my body reflexively jerked as

the stream of water focused between my

legs, instantly spreading fire through my

veins. I could not back away, nor move

forward. His free arm wrapped tightly

around my waist, immobilizing me.

As I tried bucking away in an

attempt to escape the sensations, it only

pushed him deeper inside. “Shh…,” he

whispered into my ear as I struggled

against the tortuous pleasure.

Violent tremors of ecstasy raged

through my body, unleashing cries of

protest. Colors burst across my field of

vision behind closed eyes. The arm

around my waist tightened once again,

holding me in place while the water

continued to dance over my center in an

erotic assault. The heartbeat pounding

against my back matched the one in my

chest. A shooting pain seared along the

soft area above my collarbone as his

teeth dug deep into the flesh.

Holding me against him like a rag

doll, he turned me to face the tile that felt

cool against my cheek. Flexing my hips

with his hands, I forcefully bent at the

waist and braced myself with my

forearms. The slapping noise of flesh

and falling water echoed through the

cavernous bathroom. Feeling my knees

start to give, Connor knew he had to

come quickly because I couldn’t take

anymore. A few urgent thrusts later, he

pulled me up to his chest again and came

deeply inside, groaning my name as his

body shook.

I slacked against him, catching my

breath, holding onto his arms to steady

my balance as they loosened their grip.

His lips kissed the side of my neck

gently as I leaned heavily on his rapidly

rising chest. Gathering my bearings a

few moments later, I knelt down to pick

up the shower head that was banging

against the tile by the drain, spraying

water recklessly around. Setting it back

up into its stand, I turned around to rinse

off. I stepped to the side, allowing the

water to run over his chest and down his

front.

Wanting to say something, I was

met with silence from my inner critic.

All I could do was stare, which he

returned with equal attention. He

cracked a smile that allowed my guard

to come down slightly. Leaning in for a

gentle kiss, he paused before touching

my lips. I felt his breath across my

mouth, rapid and shallow. Licking in

anticipation, he pulled away, leaving me

confused. Reaching around me to turn off

the water, I continued to give a

perplexed look.

The glass door opened just below

the shelf holding fluffy white towels.

Pulling one down, he opened it up,

holding it by each end. As he turned

towards me, I lifted my arms for him to

wind it around my torso. After securing

the ends, his hands cupped the sides of

my face, placing a sweet kiss on my lips.

A mischievous light danced in his eyes.

Turning to grab another towel from the

shelf, I slipped past him out into the

room. It was still dark; the clock read

five twenty two in the morning. Not

bothering to get clothes on, I peeled back

the covers from the bed and crawled in.

He turned out the light and made his way

to the other side. Lying next to me, his

hands reached across to feel for where I

was. Finding the top of my arm, he

stroked gently.

“Get

some

more

sleep,

sweetheart,” he said lovingly.

Taking his hand to kiss his palm, I

wrapped his arm into my chest. Without

another word, I fell back into darkness.

Chapter 18 - The

Bridge

Sleep came quickly as the past

resurrected from my subconscious.

Suddenly, I was swept away to another

time and place. I replayed this memory

of being seventeen years old frequently,

but now it held the vivid qualities only

lucid dreaming could impart. I felt like a

ghost as I witnessed myself walking

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