Read Online Beautiful Broken by Nazarea Andrews - Free Book Online
Authors: Nazarea Andrews
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my name on her lips as I licked her until she fell apart, fills my head, and I can't stop myself. I slip a hand into my boxers, fisting my erection. I stroke myself as I think about her lips, the little noises she made when I kissed her, the way she would sound if I drove my cock into her, how amazing she would feel.
It's dirty. It's so wrong, I should be shot. It's doesn't stop me, and when I imagine her whispering my name as she rides me—I groan, my back arching as my dick jerks and I spill across my belly, long and hot.
I grab the towel next to my bed, cleaning myself up while I catch my breath and try to figure out what the hell is wrong with me. There is so much wrong with what I just did—getting myself off while fantasizing about Scout? Fuck, Atti would gut me if he knew. And what about her? She doesn't need that shit.
It doesn't matter how much I want her—she isn't mine and never will be. I'm bad for her. Scout needs a hero, someone who will pick her up and take care of her and treat her like the fragile, precious treasure that she is.
I'm really bad at that. I break everything I touch.
A tap on my door makes me jerk. My mind races. What does she want? She can't have heard me—I groaned a few times, but it was quiet. Shit, did I say her name?
The door peeks open, and her voice fills it. "Dane?"
For a heartbeat, I almost don't answer. But there's a hitch in her voice that makes me sit up.
"What's wrong, Scout?" I ask, surprised my voice is steady.
"Can I sleep with you?"
My eyes go wide, and my dick twitches. Great. Five minutes after orgasm and I'm already getting hard again.
"I don't think that's a good idea." I say hoarsely.
"Just to sleep," she says, her voice unspeakably weary. "You keep the dreams away. I don't want to dream."
Her voice breaks me. What did I tell her earlier? A safe place. I won't take that away from her, not when she's staring at me like I can make the boogieman go away.
I toss the blankets back and she climbs into bed without hesitating. I lean over and tuck her in, ignoring her shiver, the way she looks so right in my bed. That's not what she's asking for or needs. I settle on my side of the king sized bed, and it's quiet, the only noise her soft breathing and the subtle shifts as she tries to get comfortable.
"Scout?" I ask, and she tenses. "Go with me to a meeting tomorrow?"
I see her slight nod, and some of my tension eases. Without letting myself overthink it, I pull her into my arms. She's stiff for a heartbeat that seems like an eternity, and then the tension drains out of her so quickly it makes me dizzy. She nestles against me, her head tucked into the crook of my shoulder, her body a pliant warmth against my side.
"Night, Dane," she whispers, and I murmur something incoherent as her breathing settles.
She's asleep in minutes, and I'm left in the dark, holding her. Wondering how I became her safe place, and wondering how the hell I'm going to keep from screwing it up.
Scout
His alarm wakes me up. I'm on my back, one of his arms heavy across my hips, his leg tangled in my own. I shift and he growls. Props himself up enough to turn off the blaring alarm then pulls me more firmly into his arms, his breathing deep and even.
I think he did it all in his sleep, except when I wiggle, his arms clamp down around me and he mutters, "Quit moving, Scout. I'm sleeping."
Dane's voice is always sexy. But first thing in the morning, still rough with sleep, it's deeper and raw, and I think I could come just from him talking to me. I shift in his embrace again, and he rolls, pinning me to the bed. "I said, stop moving," he says. His head dips down, lips flirting with my skin, trailing his nose up my neck and leaving tiny butterfly kisses in his wake. I whimper and he groans, lets his weight drop on me, so I can feel his erection pressing into my belly.
I hate being held down. I hate having the weight of a man covering me—it's why I always take the top. But this—I
It's dirty. It's so wrong, I should be shot. It's doesn't stop me, and when I imagine her whispering my name as she rides me—I groan, my back arching as my dick jerks and I spill across my belly, long and hot.
I grab the towel next to my bed, cleaning myself up while I catch my breath and try to figure out what the hell is wrong with me. There is so much wrong with what I just did—getting myself off while fantasizing about Scout? Fuck, Atti would gut me if he knew. And what about her? She doesn't need that shit.
It doesn't matter how much I want her—she isn't mine and never will be. I'm bad for her. Scout needs a hero, someone who will pick her up and take care of her and treat her like the fragile, precious treasure that she is.
I'm really bad at that. I break everything I touch.
A tap on my door makes me jerk. My mind races. What does she want? She can't have heard me—I groaned a few times, but it was quiet. Shit, did I say her name?
The door peeks open, and her voice fills it. "Dane?"
For a heartbeat, I almost don't answer. But there's a hitch in her voice that makes me sit up.
"What's wrong, Scout?" I ask, surprised my voice is steady.
"Can I sleep with you?"
My eyes go wide, and my dick twitches. Great. Five minutes after orgasm and I'm already getting hard again.
"I don't think that's a good idea." I say hoarsely.
"Just to sleep," she says, her voice unspeakably weary. "You keep the dreams away. I don't want to dream."
Her voice breaks me. What did I tell her earlier? A safe place. I won't take that away from her, not when she's staring at me like I can make the boogieman go away.
I toss the blankets back and she climbs into bed without hesitating. I lean over and tuck her in, ignoring her shiver, the way she looks so right in my bed. That's not what she's asking for or needs. I settle on my side of the king sized bed, and it's quiet, the only noise her soft breathing and the subtle shifts as she tries to get comfortable.
"Scout?" I ask, and she tenses. "Go with me to a meeting tomorrow?"
I see her slight nod, and some of my tension eases. Without letting myself overthink it, I pull her into my arms. She's stiff for a heartbeat that seems like an eternity, and then the tension drains out of her so quickly it makes me dizzy. She nestles against me, her head tucked into the crook of my shoulder, her body a pliant warmth against my side.
"Night, Dane," she whispers, and I murmur something incoherent as her breathing settles.
She's asleep in minutes, and I'm left in the dark, holding her. Wondering how I became her safe place, and wondering how the hell I'm going to keep from screwing it up.
Scout
His alarm wakes me up. I'm on my back, one of his arms heavy across my hips, his leg tangled in my own. I shift and he growls. Props himself up enough to turn off the blaring alarm then pulls me more firmly into his arms, his breathing deep and even.
I think he did it all in his sleep, except when I wiggle, his arms clamp down around me and he mutters, "Quit moving, Scout. I'm sleeping."
Dane's voice is always sexy. But first thing in the morning, still rough with sleep, it's deeper and raw, and I think I could come just from him talking to me. I shift in his embrace again, and he rolls, pinning me to the bed. "I said, stop moving," he says. His head dips down, lips flirting with my skin, trailing his nose up my neck and leaving tiny butterfly kisses in his wake. I whimper and he groans, lets his weight drop on me, so I can feel his erection pressing into my belly.
I hate being held down. I hate having the weight of a man covering me—it's why I always take the top. But this—I
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