Broken (19 page)

“You shouldn’t have been made to feel like that. Professional isn’t the word I’d use for that tosser.”

I smile. Not because it’s amusing, but because I’m relieved, if not slightly baffled, that he’s still here. “Eventually, I gave in, if only to appease Max. It was a completely different experience that time around. This guy knew what he was talking about. Knew what questions to ask. He…well he took me seriously.”

“But…you’re better now?” He shakes his head before correcting himself. “I mean, it’s being managed?”

“Yes.” It’s not a lie as such. I
am
managing it, just on my own. The lithium slows me down, and when my father passed away I needed to be alert or the business he’d spent his whole life growing would’ve gone to shit if I’d continued living as a robot.

So, I weaned myself off the medication, and it worked. My energy levels peaked to the point I could work through the night and still deliver kick-arse management skills during the day. Not only that, I wrote a new book, which I’ve just signed the publishing contract for, in just two weeks.

I’m not stupid enough to think these levels of productivity will last. I can already feel it waning. The tiredness is setting in, the need for more sleep. So as soon as the new book has completed the editing and publication process, and my staff have adjusted to the changes I’m implementing for the magazine contract, I’ll start taking my meds again.

I’ve got this.

~Theo~

I
haven’t been able to take my eyes off James’ face the whole time we’ve been lying in his bed, although he’s barely looked at me. The things he’s just revealed leave me feeling quietly terrified, yet I’m also completely in awe of him. All I can think about is that broken teenage boy, alone in his room with no one to hold him, no one to help him.

How was that allowed to happen? He was a child. I don’t care how good an actor he says he is, somebody should’ve seen.

“I’m sorry, Theodore.” The sound of his gravelled voice makes me realise I’ve been silent for several minutes. “It’s too much. I’ve said too much.”

“It
is
too much. What you’ve been through is too much. The lack of support you’ve had is too much. But the fact you trust me enough to tell me everything you just did, that you let me in, showed me who you are…No, James. That’s not too much.”

“I’d convinced myself you’d leave,” he says, palming my cheek. “Part of me still thinks you should.”

Part of me
wants
to, but I’m bound too tightly to him, to every side of him, to the strong and assured CEO, and the vulnerable, breaking man hiding beneath the surface. But I have no experience with mental illness and, honestly, it petrifies me. What if he’s dragged into that blackness again? How do I get him out? What if he really
is
a good liar and I don’t notice his demons strangling him until it’s too late?

Can I live with so much uncertainty? Will a relationship entail me scrutinising his every move, every expression? How sad is
too
sad? How happy is
too
happy?

Am I strong enough?

I have no idea. All I know is when I uttered the word
love
it was an accident, but it wasn’t a lie.

I love him.

I’m
in
love with him.

And it scares the ever living hell out of me.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, hitching myself closer to him and burying my face in his neck.

His stubble grates against my cheek as I kiss the throbbing vein in his throat before I inch lower, pressing my lips to his chest. His taut muscles are littered with scars. Most are faded, silvery lines. Some are thick, raised, and some are tiny circles that spark soul-destroying images of him extinguishing cigarettes on his flesh.

Tears sting like grains of salt in the back of my eyes as my lips travel across his skin, kissing each mark in turn. Angling my head, I look up at his face and his expression twists into curiosity, maybe even fear.

“How can you stand to do that?” he asks, his stare intense.

“Kiss you?”

“Kiss…
them
. They’re hideous.”

“
They
are part of you, and you’re beautiful.”

I peck feather-light kisses up to his neck before crawling onto my knees and straddling him, taking his face in my hands. “So let me kiss you,” I whisper against his lips. “Let me love you.”

A small gasp seeps from his mouth. “You don’t know what that means, to love someone like me.”

I run my tongue over his bottom lip. “Too late.”

His warm breath covers my face like a blanket and for a second I pause, enjoying the closeness.

“I need to feel you inside me, James,” I say, breathless. Curling my fingers around the base of his neck, I dip my tongue between his lips, kissing him,
loving
him.

Working my hands between our bodies, I tease open the button on his pants, reaching inside and closing my fingers around his perfectly hard cock.

“Fuck, Theodore,” he groans against my jaw.

Breaking away from his face, I shuffle down the bed, un-popping the buttons on my shirt with one hand before shrugging out of it and tossing it to the floor. I release his cock just long enough to remove my pants, my dick springing to attention, and he raises his arse off the mattress and does the same.

The sight of him steals my breath for a moment. He’s stunning.
All
of him. Even the parts he’s ashamed of. To me, I see scars of courage. Inflicting them gave him the strength to survive the pain that’s plagued him all his life. I’m grateful to every one of them because he’s still here, with me.

Running my hands up his colourful thighs, I admire the Japanese artwork decorating his skin. Now I know his secrets, know
him
, I wonder if his ink is another way of transferring the pain. The thought makes my chest tighten.

Leaning forward, I grasp the base of his cock and it twitches in response. I’m eager to feel it buried inside me, but first I need to taste him. I pepper soft kisses along his balls, sporadically nipping the loose skin with my teeth, gently, but firm enough to make him moan.

His fingers land on the back of my head, stroking through my hair as I clamp my lips over his swollen head, swirling my tongue over the freckle on his tip.

“Christ, Theodore…”

“I love this little freckle,” I tell him, kissing it once more. Keeping my lips moist, I slide them up and down his thick shaft, my hand caressing his balls. I suck, lick, and tease him until his hips grind into the mattress, revelling in every gasp, groan and strained breath that trickles from his throat. He asks for me to turn around so he can play with me at the same time, and I do, but I’m not giving him the power this time.

“Ah, yeah,” I whisper, breathing heavily onto James’ cock as his tongue draws circles around my hole.

He keeps one hand on my dick, squeezing and relaxing, driving me insane while he works on me with his mouth. His tongue dips inside, thrusting gently as I take his cock to the back of my throat over and over again. Then, when he starts fucking me with his fingers I almost lose my frigging mind.

I release him with a soft pop and flip myself around. Automatically, he reaches out to his bedside table and blindly fumbles for a condom and lube, knowing what I want, what I
need
from him.

Kneeling beside him, I watch, biting my lip as he rolls the condom onto himself.

“Turn over, Theodore.”

Pressing my nose to his, I place a chaste kiss on his lips before stealing the lube from his hand. “No.”

He looks surprised, a little confused even, as I drizzle a generous amount of lube onto his cock, massaging it in with my fingers. Slowly, I raise my leg and hitch it over his hips, straddling him. “You’re going to look at me this time, James. I want to see your face when I make you come.”

His expression is wary, and I wonder if he’s ever had sex face-to-face before, if he’s ever given up his control. His eyes are narrowed but he doesn’t utter a word as I reach behind myself and guide his cock towards my puckered rim. Keeping my fingers curled around the base, I lower myself onto him slowly, gasping as he stretches me.

My body stills for a moment and I bring my hands to his chest, using him to support my weight as I start to move. Everything about this is different to anything I’ve ever felt before. I’m so deeply connected to him, in every way possible. I don’t think I’ll ever be one man again. He’s part of me. He completes me. He’s filled a void I didn’t even know existed before I met him.

Our gazes interlocked, we don’t take our eyes off each other as I work myself up and down on top of him. His hips roll in time with my own as I rub the light dusting of sweat glistening on his flawed chest into his muscles. He’s so damn beautiful, inside and out, and my heart swells with awe, pride…with love.

Smoothing one palm up his chest, I grip his shoulder, steadying myself while I take my leaking cock in my free hand. James reaches out, stroking my balls, and I tighten my fist and start to tug.

“That’s it, Theodore,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “So fucking beautiful.”

Moving faster, I slam myself down on him again and again, the loud slaps matching the speed of my hand. I fight the urge to close my eyes, to lose myself in the sensations taking over my body, as violent jolts of pleasure dart through my spine and into my aching balls.

“Fuck, James,” I whisper, my stare piercing his. “I’m almost there.”

His brow furrows as he rasps and pants into the air. “Do it, Theodore. Come all over my body.”

My legs begin to tremble, my knees weakening, and James takes over, pounding his cock so deep into my arse it makes me cry out his name. “James!”

Angling my cock forwards, I pump hard and fast until I feel my release surging through my shaft, exploding in quick, intense spurts all over his stomach.

“Holy shit…” he breathes, slamming into me one last time, his entire body juddering below mine as my hole clenches around his pulsating cock.

Falling forward, I collapse onto his chest and kiss the heat that has gathered around his neck.

“Stay with me, Theodore,” he murmurs. “No matter how hard I push, stay with me. Believe in me.” His tone is so raw, so powerful, and I can’t prevent the tear that leaks from the corner of my eye.

Hovering my face just inches from his, I cup his cheek, stroking softly with my thumb. “Always.”

There isn’t a choice. I belong to James Holden. I can try to fight it, but the truth is this beautiful, haunted man, has owned me since the first time I looked into his eyes.

**********

The next morning, I find myself in James’ home office again, picking up books I must have read a dozen times and analysing their covers as if it’s the first time I’ve seen them.

Upon hearing James’ footsteps creep up behind me, I place the book I’m holding back on the shelf and turn around. “My brain is still struggling to process the fact that JD Simmons and
you
are the same person. You’re just a…man.” I shake my head. “A normal guy.”

James snickers. “
You’re
a writer, too,” he says, as if I should understand.

“No, I’m not. Not like you. You’re like a…a star. I’m just a guy tapping out his random thoughts in my spare time.”

“As am I,” he says, wearing a smirk. “Simmons is my grandmother’s maiden name,” he explains. “Which one is your favourite?”

I blow a puff of air through pursed lips. “I don’t even know how I’m supposed to choose,” I say, scratching my head. “Maybe
Promises
, purely because it’s the first one I read.”

Smiling, James plucks a hardback copy of
Promises
from the middle shelf and strolls over to his desk. Bending, he picks up a pen and scribbles inside the jacket before snapping it closed and handing it back to me. I feel giddy, butterflies swarming my stomach as I start to open it.

Putting his hand on top of mine, he stops me. “Don’t read it until you get home.”

Bemused, I lift an eyebrow, but I nod in agreement.

“Breakfast?” he offers.

“I need to get going really. I’ve no clean clothes here.”

He looks disappointed but forces a smile. “Have things changed between us, Theodore?”

Stepping forward, I rest my hands on his tense shoulders. He’s already dressed for work, looking sophisticated and utterly fuckable in his sharp, black suit. “Yes,” I breathe. “Things have absolutely changed.”

His shoulders stiffen under my touch and I squeeze them gently. “I finally know who you are, James. You’re brave. Strong. A survivor. Things have changed because, today, I have no doubts about us, about
you
. Last night, you gave me
all
of you. You trusted me beyond a level I doubt I’ll ever deserve, and I’m going to make damn sure you never regret it.”

Pressing my forehead to his, I sigh. “I’m scared, James. I’m scared I won’t know how to support you, that I’ll let you down, but if you let me I want to try.”

“Fuck, Theodore,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes closed. “I’m scared, too. I’ve never done this. Some of the things I told you have never left my lips before last night. I didn’t think they ever would.”

My heart breaks all over again. The level of loneliness this man has lived through is unimaginable, unbearable.

“I can’t promise you anything,” he adds. “I can’t promise I won’t hide from you…
lie
to you.”

“Promise to
try
,” I urge, pressing my lips to his before enfolding his strong body in my arms. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

“I…I’ll try,” he mutters, so quietly I wonder if I’ve imagined it.

“I love you, James.” His lips part but I hover my finger over them. “I don’t expect you to say it back. Not yet. Just know that I
do
. I love you. What I feel for you, how connected I am to you, it’s too strong to be anything else.”

In this moment, with his brow creased and his eyes closed, he looks like a man in fifty different types of pain. So I do the only thing I can think of. I kiss him, breathing deeply, and try to absorb some of the hurt in his heart.