“No... nothing,” I said, my breathing coming out fast and shallow.

“Didn't think so,” he said, watching my face as he drove me up. And I was going up. And it was strange and foreign and so consuming I felt like I was going to explode if I ever made it to the top. My hips started moving of their own intuition, stoking my desire and Breaker made a growling sound in his throat. “That's it, ride it. Come for me, baby,” he urged, his thumb pressing down on my clit.

I wasn't wrong.

It was like an explosion.

Every muscle tensed. Every nerve ending fired. My breath hitched, hissing out his name as my sex pulsated hard around his finger in a seemingly endless wave. His finger kept working me through the whole thing, dragging it out until I wavered forward and collapsed against him.

His hand pressed in between my shoulder blades, holding me to him as I shivered through the aftershocks.

“Deep breaths, doll,” he said quietly as I struggled to calm down the erratic strobe-like pull of my breath. “Christ, you come that hard from my fingers... just think of what it will be like when it's my tongue or my cock.”

Some sort of sound escaped me, half moan, half objection.

I honestly couldn't even think of such a thing. I was barely holding it together from that orgasm. I couldn't imagine another one.

I was set.

For the night.

Or month.

Or my entire lifetime.

Yeah, it was that good.

“Did I make it up to you?”

“Make what up to me?”

“I'll take that as a yes,” he chuckled, his hands moving to grab my ass, holding it hard. “Come on,” he said, moving to stand, holding me to him by my butt, “let's get you some food.”

“Food?” I asked pushing back from his neck to look at him as he walked to the kitchen, dropping me down on the counter, and taking a step back.

He smiled, pressing his hips into my knees until my legs parted around his body. “Yeah, doll. Food. I'm going to feed you and then I am going to fuck you until you can't walk right for a week.”

Well then.

Eleven

Alex

He worked silently for a while, chopping potatoes and throwing them into a pan with garlic and olive oil and dropping a steak into the broiler. I watched on in a sort of fascinated wonder. For one, because I had absolutely no culinary skills in the least (unless cooking ramen counted. Which I'm pretty sure it didn't). And also because it was borderline amusing to see someone like Breaker- a huge, hulking mass of muscle and testosterone doing something that didn't involve general murder and mayhem.

“Tell me why you want to take down Lex,” he said abruptly, his body half turned to mine as he stood at the stove, mixing the potatoes as they sizzled.

Maybe it was the bone-deep tiredness that was setting in. Or the weird weighty and satisfied post-orgasm drunkenness, but I didn't even think of not answering or hedging around the issue.

“He's the reason my mother killed herself when I was sixteen.”

Breaker dropped the wooden spoon into the pan and turned fully to look at me. “What?”

It had been such an ever-present part of my life for so long that it barely even occurred to me anymore that it was a shocking thing to know. But there was Breaker, the biggest, baddest guy I had ever met looking positively stricken at the news.

I felt my shoulder shrug a little, pushing the image of her in that bathtub out of the way. “Let's just say that once upon a time, Lex got his hands on my mother. And she never really recovered. She was always really fragile. Physically and emotionally. I never understood why until I found her after school that day. She took a bottle of painkillers, got herself all dressed up, and laid down in the tub.”

“Alex...” his voice broke in, a strange raspy whisper.

“It was then that I found the note. Which was really more of a six page letter, backs and fronts, explaining what happened to her.”

“What happened to her?” he asked, staying where he was as if maybe sensing my need for space.

It wasn't a story I shared. Not fully. I had given tidbits to Glenn when he offered to help me, greatly editing out the gory details. But I didn't want to do that this time. I wanted to purge it all. Maybe because of the way Breaker lived, I thought he would understand. Or because of his quiet strength, I thought he could handle the grim reality. But whatever the reason, I let it spill.

“My mom was like I was after her death, in and out of foster care. But she went in when she was eight. Her parents were heavy into drugs and she was taken away. When she was sixteen, she was staying in a group home. And so was Lex Keith.”

At this, Breaker's arm shot out to turn off the stove, his brow raising. I guessed Lex's history of being in the system wasn't widely known.

“And, believe it or not, they became friends. My mom,” I said, running a hand through my half-dry hair, “was really beautiful. Like... she could have been a model if she had a different life. Maybe that's what drew him to her. Or maybe it was her softness. She was always way too nice for her own good. From what I could tell though, they were only friends. He was like a big brother or mentor to her, helping her get through the system. Who knows... maybe back then, Lex wasn't the monster he turned out to be. From her story, he was nothing but good to her.”

“Until,” Breaker prompted, knowing the ball was about to drop.

“Until she was twenty. Lex had been long gone from her life for like three years. She had found a job at a diner, had a little apartment. She was trying to get her life together. Then one night, in walks Lex. Older. More sure of himself. And he walked right up to her and pulled her out of the diner, told her she'd never have to work again. She was going to go with him and he was going to take care of her.” I shook my head, looking out the darkened window. “As you can imagine, Lex's idea of taking care of someone was warped.”

“Alex, you don't have to...”

“He took her back to his house and he beat and he raped her,” I went on, needing to get it out. “Not just that night. Every night. For years.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Like I said, she was soft and sweet. And when he wasn't abusing her, he was providing for her. So she was kind of trapped. Then he was you know... slowly rising up in the ranks and I guess that stress made him more and more vicious until one night, he beat her nearly unconscious and she went to the hospital and got help. There was a detective who really went out of his way for her, got her away, got her a safe place, helped her try to get her life back on track.”

“Lex just... left her alone?”

“I think he just couldn't find her. She kept her head low. Eventually, I think he moved on to other targets. Since she never filed charges, I guess he figured she wasn't worth any more of his time.”

“She held on for sixteen years?” Breaker asked, brows drawing together.

“Maybe it was for me. A selfish part of me wants to believe that. That she was trying to take care of me until I was old enough to take care of myself. It could have been a part of it. Because she was doing okay. Not great. She had trouble keeping jobs and making normal connections, but she smiled and laughed. Maybe not daily. But she did it and it wasn't forced. She sang to me. We had nothing, but we had each other and in a lot of ways, it was enough. Anyway I think... I think there was something that triggered her reaction that day. She was unstable, up and down with her moods, leaning more toward paranoia than depression, always terrified about something happening to me... but she wasn't suicidal. I was at school so I don't know what she did that day. She wasn't working. Maybe she was going to an interview or something. I think she saw him. I think that's why she did it. She saw him, she was worried he would come after her. Come after me because of her. She couldn't live through that again. I understand why she did it.”