The Pretty Broken

Chapter 22 Roman

TWENTY-TWO

ROMAN

Ididn’t want to call her and tell her to get her ass home, but I wanted her to get her ass home.

I kept the bottle of bourbon in my hand, fingers wrapped tightly around the neck as I sat in the living room, eyes glued to the clock.

The tick, tick, tick was about to make me go insane.

Every tick was another second that she wasn’t home where I wanted her.

Every tick was another second that she was with him, doing God only knew what.

When I thought about the way he looked at her when she wasn’t looking, when I pictured him feeding her shot after shot of alcohol she had no business drinking, when I imagined him touching her, kissing her, stealing away her innocence, my anger nearly exploded out of me.

I brought the bottle back to my lips and poured in a large glug, swallowing it down.

I grabbed my cell off the coffee table in front of me.

I had sat it there when I went to sit down, watching it and willing it to ring.

It never did, and I couldn’t wait any longer.

I dialed her number and counted the rings until she answered.

“Hello?” she yelled, talking over the noise of the bar.

“Where are you?”

“I’m hanging out with friends.”

“Time to come home.” I squeezed the bottle in my other hand.

“Oh my God, Roman,” she complained. “I’m an adult, you know? You can’t keep telling me what to do.”

“Maybe not, but I can make sure that the contract you willingly signed is upheld. Now, are you going to come home, or do we need to see this play out in court?”

She let out a laugh. “You’re going to sue me for breaking the contract?”

“I don’t want to, but you’re forcing my hand here.”

She let out a growl of anger. “I’m on my way.”

“Are you safe to drive, or do I need to send a car?”

“I’m fine. I’ll grab a taxi.” She hung up before I could respond.

I tossed my phone back onto the table and took another drink.

My vision was starting to blur. My heart was racing, pounding against my chest, and warming my blood as it rushed through every inch.

I grew hot, unsure if the spike in blood pressure was from her defiance, the whiskey, or something else.

A growl ripped from my lips as I stood and walked across the room, where I started to pace back and forth.

I walked back and forth again and again, losing track of time.

All I knew was that it was taking her too long to get home.

I was pissed that she broke the rules. Again.

I was pissed that I had to call her and tell her to get her ass home. Again.

I was pissed off at myself for not being able to stop fucking thinking about her. Again.

It was taking her too long. I worried that something had happened. Did she get in a car accident? Just the thought of losing her in a car accident was enough to cripple me.

My pacing stopped, and I brought the bottle to my mouth, taking in more.

I told myself to calm down, to stop overreacting, but I couldn’t.

All I could think about was calling her back to make sure she was OK.

My eyes moved to my phone that I left on the table, and I picked up my phone to take a step.

Before I could, though, the front door opened, and she came walking in.

I was flooded with relief, but somehow that only doubled my anger.

“Where the fuck have you been?” I asked, marching toward her.

She wasn’t scared to see me flying toward her. Instead of shrinking down, she straightened her back. She crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “I told you. I was with my friends.”

“Have you been drinking?” I asked, stopping directly in front of her.

“I had a couple of beers. Nothing like what I had the other night, so save your speech.”

“This is ridiculous,” I said, running my hand through my hair.

“I am allowed to have a life outside of this house, you know?”

I set the bottle of whiskey on a nearby table. “You’re only allowed when I say so. And right now, you’re not allowed anything. You might have the night off, but that doesn’t mean that you can walk in here after a night of drinking for Sophia to see.”

She snorted. “Yeah, she sees that enough with you.”

“I pay you to be here. And I pay you quite nicely if I say so myself. You’re to be responsible.

You raise her right. I can’t have her thinking it’s okay to grow up and turn into the kind of woman who roams from bar to bar.

She’s too good for that. And so are you, if I’m being honest. I know you didn’t see that behavior growing up. ”

“This is so fucked up. You don’t own me, Roman. You can’t dictate what I do, where I go, or who I hang out with! You can’t be my boss and my warden!”

I didn’t remember making a decision. All I knew was that one minute, I was standing in front of her and the next, I wasn’t.

“I do own you,” I said as I slammed my body against hers, pinning her to the wall. She stared up at me with big, colorful eyes, her small body trembling against mine in the pretty little purple sundress she wore.

My mouth came down on hers hard, my tongue thrusting into her warm, sweet mouth. Her lips were soft, yet frozen in surprise. She didn’t kiss me back, yet she didn’t push me away either.

I broke the kiss, my eyes finding hers. They narrowed as I watched her pupils blow out, the green rings growing darker as she looked up at me. Her tongue ran across her bottom lip as if she was savoring the taste of me on her lips.

Something told me to try again. This time, I moved my hands to cup her face, and I slowly leaned down.

As my lips got closer and closer to hers, I kept my eyes open, trying to judge her next move.

I didn’t know if she’d push me away, if she’d freeze up again, or if she’d give in.

I was just drunk enough that I didn’t care. I was going to try regardless.

My mouth found hers, and I felt her melt into me. Her lips softened, becoming more fluid-like as they moved against mine. My tongue teased her plump bottom lip, silently asking her to open for me. When she did, I thrust my tongue inside.

I tasted, teased, explored every facet, and was surprised when she wrapped her arms around my neck and deepened the kiss.

Our lips moved in sync as our tongues danced and tangled together.

I savored every second of being able to taste her.

Every inch of me came alive and burned with need for her.

I could tell she was just as excited. I could feel the way her heart was slamming against her chest as I kept her pressed against me.

I could feel her labored breath on my lips.

I wanted so much more, but it was like every warning echoed through my head all at once.

She’s too young for you. She’s twenty-one. You’re thirty-one.

She’s your wife’s little sister.

She’s innocent. You should be protecting that, not working to steal it away.

As good as she felt against me, I knew I had to stop myself while I still had a handle on reality.

I pulled away, nearly jumping back a foot.

My eyes found hers, and neither of us moved an inch as we stared at one another, wondering what the fuck was happening with us.

We both wanted more, but we were both too confused to act on it.

My hands ached to cup her jaw again. My stomach felt like it had been tied into knots.

My cock was rock hard and throbbing with a need that only she could take away.

But if I acted on my deepest, darkest desires, it would be crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.

It would fuck up everything. Nothing would be easy, and I’d be eaten alive with guilt.

“Fuck,” I grumbled before turning and walking away.

She didn’t speak.

Nor did she try to stop me. I think she was just as thrown off by it all.

I entered my room and closed the door behind me.

My hand suddenly felt empty, and I realized that I’d left my bottle out there.

I clenched my hand into a fist, knowing I couldn’t go back out there to get it.

If I did, I didn’t know if I could trust myself to stay away from her.

I took a step toward the door, changed my mind, and fell back a step.

I turned and moved to the bedside table.

I bent over and tugged the drawer. There was a pint-sized bottle there, but it barely had anything left.

I took it out and uncapped it. I tossed the cap to the side before bringing the bottle to my lips.

The alcohol killed the taste of her that she left on my lips and tongue, but it didn’t touch the memories I had.

I closed my eyes, and the memory formed.

I relived the taste of her, the softness of her lips, the strength of her tongue.

I remembered the heat that rushed from her body and the way she conformed to my chest. Her breasts had been pressed against me.

So round, soft, and fuckable. I wondered if she’d ever let anyone touch them? Would she let me?

I imagined the way I’d tease her nipples, making them harden and stand at attention.

I saw myself sucking one into my mouth, causing her to arch her back and wiggle with need.

I wanted to tease her until she was begging me to fuck her.

I wanted her to want my cock, if for no other reason than to make me not feel so guilty about giving it to her.

A growl ripped from my lips as I turned for the bathroom.

I hadn’t jacked off so much since I was going through puberty as a teen boy, but I didn’t know what else to do.

I couldn’t have her, and nobody else would do.

I’d tried tricking myself into believing that I was fucking her while I was with someone else.

My dick wasn’t that dumb. Only she’d do, yet I wouldn’t allow myself to touch her.

So until I could manage to work her out of my system, I had to settle for jerking off into the shower drain.

I climbed into the shower and turned on the water.

I took a swig of whiskey and wondered what she was doing.

Instead of imagining myself fucking her every way possible, I imagined her in her own shower, rubbing one out while thinking of me.

I imagined the sound of her gasps and moans as they echoed off the tiled walls.

I pictured her facial expression: brows knitted together, lips parted and shaped like an O.

I wondered how she’d touch herself… left hand massaging her breast, the right beneath the water in the tub, rubbing vigorously at her needy, swollen clit.

My cock jumped from the mental image, and I wrapped my hand around the base of my cock, working myself over.

It didn’t take long to have my orgasm building, but I slowed and let it fall away, wanting to keep her in my thoughts a bit longer.

I thought about her toes curling, her back arching, her moans, whimpers, and pleas as she thrusted her fingers into herself.

I wondered if she’d let me watch her pleasure herself, and I imagined walking into her bathroom as she did so.

Her eyes would open and lock with mine. She’d freeze in a moment of temporary embarrassment, but then she’d start again once she saw the desperate look in my eyes.

She’d go back to work, and with every whimper, she realized, I’d move closer and closer until I’d drop to my knees at her tub.

I’d rest my arms along the edge, watching as she caused ripples to form in her bathwater.

I could feel the warmth of her water as I reached below the surface to do it for her.

She’d move her hand away and let me take over.

I’d make her come so goddamn hard that she’d temporarily go blind with passion.

In the next second, she’d spin around and pull my mouth to hers, our lips crashing, teeth jarring, both lost in need and desire.

My release bubbled to the surface again, and even though I wanted to push it back, I couldn’t.

I lost control. I couldn’t do anything but let the wave carry me away, let it pull me under as the strongest orgasm ravaged my body I’d had in a long time.

I spilled myself of every last drop. By the time I was done, I was breathless, weak, and my arm was nearly dead.

I knew that I had to have her.

I knew that it was wrong.

But I also knew that it didn’t matter.

I could only resist for so long. I didn’t know how long that would be. But eventually, I’d be too weak to stop it, and that’s when the world as I knew it would change. I’d cross the line that couldn’t be uncrossed.

I told myself if I were smart, I’d fire her immediately and get her the fuck out of my house.

I made a million excuses for why I couldn’t do that, but the only one that was the truth was that I wasn’t strong enough.

I couldn’t make her leave. I needed her.

I needed her in a way I didn’t even understand.

And I wouldn’t be able to stop until I had her beneath me, screaming my name, and coming on my dick.

Even then, I knew I’d forever be changed.

Would I ever get enough? Could I bear losing both of them?

I shook my head at myself.

How dare I think of them at the same time? How dare I kiss her baby sister, vow to steal her virginity away, and then miss my wife in the next second? I was fucked, no matter how you looked at it. Damned if I touched her, but damned if I didn’t.

But damn, either fucking way.