Page 68 of Broken

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts and buries his face into my neck. His cock pulses and his hands tighten on my hips again as he comes.

I’m so done, my body doesn’t want to move. Garrett instinctively knows I need a moment. Even as his cock softens, it remains inside me, until our mixed release soaks onto our thighs.

Garrett helps me to a standing position, getting up immediately and holding me steady. His quiet rumble of laughter makes me elbow his ribs. Yes, I am having trouble standing after that. I will not bother denying it.

The term fucked to within an inch of my life finally makes sense.

He walks around the bed and opens a bureau drawer, taking out a clean pair of underwear. My clothes are strewn across the floor. Embarrassment flushes my cheeks, remembering how damn fast I stripped when he told me to.

Unsure, I head to where my top is, but Garrett holds out a T-shirt. Okay… That is unexpected. After slipping it on, I tug the hem down, even though it’s large enough to cover my ass.

Garrett points out the bathroom and leaves the room. I turn to the pile of clothes. I’d feel a little more comfortable in my panties, so scoop them up.

Oh fuck, I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. How long have I been here? What if they think something happened to me? There are no calls or texts on the phone. That’s weird.

I fire off a quick text to Sin, telling her not to worry about me, then close the bathroom door.

What do I do now? The men I’ve slept with in the past have always been someone I’m in a relationship with. The awkward moments after haven’t been an issue before.

My phone pings with a text.

Sin:

I know. I saw him

Sin:

Don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone. Hope he’s drilling you into the bed

Calli:

Jesus. Stop it

Sin:

Don’t say that to him

Sin:

Call me tomorrow. I mean it

Locking the screen, I push the phone back into my jeans, then clean up and pull on my panties. He definitely didn’t pull out this time. Stupid, but kinda hot too. I trust him. Garrett has never pretended to be anything other than what he is.

I leave the jeans on the bed and put the rest of my stuff on top of them.

Looking around the room, I’m surprised it’s well lived in, not at all how I imagined. This is his space, his home, and it’s comfortable, decorated in white and navy with things lying around on the surfaces. All in their place, he’s not messy.

There is a painting on the wall over the bureau. Garrett definitely painted that. I’d recognize his style anywhere. It shows shadowy figures in a forest, but the lines are perfect. There is nothing abstract about it. It’s not the woman he has drawn so many times in his sketch pad.

He calls my name, and I head out of the bedroom, down a short hallway back into the living space. I didn’t get to see much of it on the way in, given I was thrown over his shoulder.

The rest of the apartment looks as lived in, and I wonder how long he’s been here. I didn’t know he lived above the tattoo shop. Garrett is holding two glasses of water, one of which I gratefully accept. He leans back against the counter, very reminiscent of our last tryst at my apartment.

Instead of talking, I walk across the open space of the living room and go to the window. If it’s possible, I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away. My self-consciousness rears its ugly head.

God, get it together, Calli. You’re not this naïve, scared person. It’s sex. The man has had you in the most intimate of places, now is not the time to be shy.

It’s still early enough that the streets are busy with people enjoying their Friday night. I don’t hear any noise and touch the window. They’re double pane, so block out the noise and cold. They’re the windows I recommend to clients when I’m…

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