Break me forbidden book.., p.6
Break Me (Forbidden Book 1), page 6
Tossing some cash down on the bar, I grab my jacket and stalk out the door.
Chloe is wearing a robe again when she answers the door, only this one is much sexier, thinner, much more revealing. It's barely held together with the thin satin rope; her exposed collarbones, cleavage, and thighs make me sure that she's not wearing anything underneath.
Holy fuck this is a bad idea…
I swallow, hesitant to go inside, but she looks so relieved to see me, and takes my hand, pulling me into the room before I can resist.
“I'm so glad you came,” she says breathlessly. She doesn't sound as upset as she did on the phone, but maybe she's just relieved to see me. I want her to trust me and feel safe around me so I let her lead me inside. “Do you want a drink?”
There's already a bottle of whiskey out, and two glasses, full. I frown when she pushes one into my hand.
“I'm eighteen,” she reminds me. “Legally old enough to drink.”
Right, she is. Gorgeous and legal and all the things I shouldn't be around right now. She takes her own glass in hand and takes a drink, prompting me to do the same. I'm still crossing a line, I'm sure. I shouldn't be here; I have no idea what the fuck I'm supposed to do. Putting a student up in a hotel room is surely against some kind of rule, but I'm just trying to help her.
I just want to help. Surely that's a good thing, right?
“What happened?” I ask, sitting down on the bed as she sits as well, nursing her own drink. I drink when she does, unconsciously mimicking her.
“I just needed someone to talk to,” she replies, which makes my frown deepen. “I can’t stop thinking about what happened. I keep seeing him, I keep imagining it was worse than it was. What if he-he…” Her eyes flash and she sucks her lower lip into her mouth.
“But he didn’t and you’re safe,” I tell her. Leaning forward, I take her hand. “Are you sleeping?” I ask. Then I cringe, realizing how inappropriate that sounds.
“Not very well,” she confesses. “Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there in the park…I'm so happy you came to my rescue, Mr. Reed. It's more than anyone has done for me in a long time. You’re a good man.”
That settles me a little. I am a good guy, doing right by a poor, disadvantaged girl. My thoughts are just thoughts, and I can control them. But even as I think that I take another drink, aware that I shouldn't get drunk around her. The last thing I should be doing is letting my guard down because I’m afraid of what might happen if I do.
“You’re always asking about me,” she says. “What about you?”
Her question catches me off guard, but I go with it. Maybe she’ll trust me more if I share a little bit about my life. I doubt it’s easy to talk to someone if you think they have everything under control and their life is great. While I’m sure I give that impression, nothing could be further from the truth.
“You know my daughter?”
Chloe nods, her eyes lighting up.
“I love her more than anything.” I take another drink, before staring into the amber-coloured liquor to gather my thoughts. It’s harder to say this aloud than I thought it would be. It’s one thing to know what’s going on, but to admit it to another person makes it feel so much more real. “My wife…she’s divorcing me and trying to move my daughter halfway across the world.”
She jolts, and I glance at her stunned expression.
“Really? Why would she want to do that?”
“Because our marriage is terrible,” I hear myself confessing. “She hates me, her family hates me, and I’ve never been good enough for any of them. We loved each other in the beginning, but that’s faded over the years. We haven’t had sex in God knows how long…” Totally inappropriate topic of conversation with a student, but the words pour out of me before I can stop them. “She finally asked for a divorce that day after I took you home and told me she was taking our daughter. She wants her freedom, so she’s going to do everything she can to steal my daughter away from me.”
“That’s terrible.” Chloe inhales, still coming to terms with what I’m saying. “It’s not my fault, is it?” she adds quietly. “That you guys are having trouble?”
I shake my head and laugh. “God, no. Not at all. I think she suggested I drive you home just to give her another reason to berate me in front of her family.”
Chloe shakes her head, amazed. “She did that to you?”
I nod. “She practically accused me of sleeping with you, right there in front of her family.”
“Wow, what a bitch,” she marvels. “I mean, I can’t lie, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it, but just the idea that you’d ever cross the line with me is ridiculous.”
My ears prick up. She’s thought about us together?
God, that turns me on way more than it should. Even though my marriage has been rocky for years, I’ve never considered a relationship with another person, let alone a student.
Self-satisfying to nameless, faceless, naked women on the internet is as far as I’d ever let myself go, because indulging in porn isn’t cheating. Everyone does it whether they want to admit it or not. But my marriage is over and opening up to Chloe and listening to her tell me she’s thought about us together, it’s hard not to read into it, even though I know I fucking shouldn’t.
What does she think about?
Kissing me?
Touching me?
Letting me fuck her in ways boys her age could only dream of doing?
Fuck, I need to get my shit together.
I shift, desperately trying to gain control of my thoughts, but it’s hard when she’s looking at me the way she is. Her eyes don’t leave mine, framed by her obnoxiously long lashes. Her lips part into the slightest grin, making me wonder what thoughts she has rolling around in her dirty little mind. My cock twitches at the thought and I shift, trying unsuccessfully to hide how aroused I am.
Fuck. I need to stop this and fast, before I do or say something that I know I will regret.
“We shouldn’t be talking about this.” I stand up and put my glass down, aware I have only drunk a little bit of it. I feel a sense of satisfaction. Obviously, I’m not an alcoholic—an alcoholic would be compelled to finish their drink. I’m not, because I’m in control. Just like I’m in control of this situation.
Chloe stands too, her robe fluttering, threatening to reveal more of her, but I keep my eyes on hers. I might not be a gentleman, but I can play one when warranted.
“Or maybe this conversation is exactly what you need,” she says softly, her gaze searching my face.
Something pulls me toward her because she’s right; I do need to talk. Maybe she’s not the best choice for me but she’s the only one here right now.
“Losing my daughter would kill me.”
My voice cracks as I throw the honest truth out there, then immediately, I wish I could yank it back. Chloe’s eyes soften with a sheen of tears, and she pulls me into a hug. I breathe in, devouring her sweet, youthful scent. I know I should pull away, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
“You’re a good dad, Sam. A good man,” she whispers, looking up at me from where she’s pressed to my chest. “Any woman would be lucky to have you.” She pauses, long enough to build the tension growing between us. “I would be lucky to have you.”
Her words destroy me.
Without breaking eye contact, she rises up on tiptoes and presses her soft, sweet lips to mine. Stunned, I stand there a moment and don’t react, until I do. Cupping her cheeks, I kiss her back, our tongues clashing together like waves crashing against the shore. I groan, because she tastes as fucking good as I imagined she would.
My hands slide over the satin robe, cradling her ass cheeks. Her hands graze over my cock, and I harden at her touch, my body coming alive. Her fingers fumble with the tie on her robe and I grunt, torn as it threatens to spill open. I so badly want her, to feel myself inside her tight little cunt, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
I’m not this man.
I don’t take advantage of people, especially not a helpless student who’s crying out for my help.
“I’m sorry,” I hiss, backing out of her arms. She stands there, watching me, a hurt expression on her face. “I shouldn’t be here.”
Without a second of hesitation, I turn and leave the room, aware I’ve fucked up and made a vulnerable situation worse.
One thing’s for sure—
I need to stay the fuck away from Chloe.
CHAPTER 7
CHLOE
I watch Sam leave, his shoulders hunched in, like the bats of hell are chasing him, my lips still warm, tingling slightly from the kiss. It had been a good kiss, better than I had expected.
In fact, I'm surprised by how much it affected me, how good it felt. But, as much as I enjoyed it, that doesn't stop the wave of vitriol and hate that follows right after, as soon as the door clicks shut. My mouth twists as I lie back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Sam pretends to be this knight in shining armour, swooping in to save me, but we both know he’s no hero. He’s the villain in this story—which makes it so much easier to screw him over. If he was a good guy, I’d feel bad about what I’m doing, but he’s not.
He’s my teacher.
He shouldn’t have let himself get into this position with me.
People like Sam never change. He is a monster—one of the worst kinds.
Angry, I drag the back of my hand across my lips, as if I can wipe away his kiss. My stomach rolls again, this time with a mix of repulsion and frustration. I hate him so much and I’m angry at myself for the way I’m feeling. Aroused. Turned on. There should be no confusion inside me. No feelings of remorse, no regrets, and certainly no feelings of lust.
My focus should be on doing whatever I need to do to protect my myself and my brother. A little suffering will be more than worth it, once Jake and I are safe, and far away from this place, with no monsters lingering under the bed. If Sam gets hurt in the crossfires, then so be it. Just like I got hurt ten years ago because he did nothing to help me.
There's a quiet knock on the door, interrupting my thoughts. For a split second, I think Sam might have changed his mind and come back, but the butterflies dancing in my stomach fade when I look through the peephole and see Jake standing on the other side. I open the door quickly and usher him inside, looking back and forth down the hallway to make sure nobody is there.
“You weren't seen?” I demand, worried despite myself.
He rolls his eyes and strolls past me, flopping his lanky frame down on the chair in the corner of the room.
“Relax, no one saw me,” he assures me, sweeping his dark hair away from his face. He reaches over, picking up the little pamphlet on the bedside table. “Room service?”
I shrug. It’s not like I have to pay for any of this.
“You're very quiet,” Jake observes, when I’ve made the call and we're waiting for our food.
“Maybe I'm just sick of all of this,” I sigh, sitting back against the pillows. “I'm exhausted. I just want to feel normal for once.” I can always confess to Jake. He's my closest confidante and my best friend. I know I can trust him to keep my secrets.
Jake smiles, in a way that's both sympathetic and wry. “Nothing about us is normal, Clo. You know that.”
I nod. He's right, of course. Our lives have been a whirlwind of sorrow and pain. Nothing has ever come easy for us, so why should things be any different now? But just because I know my fate doesn’t mean I have to feel good about it. I can still want things. I can still wish that my life had turned out differently, that I was a normal eighteen-year-old girl whose biggest problem in life was choosing shoes that match my outfit.
Room service comes, and we eat like kings. When it's done, I set the tray outside and close the door, turning to see Jake hovering near the corner of the bed.
“Stay?” I ask, craving the company.
“Of course,” he replies.
I smile at him and get in the bed too, snuggling beneath the covers. His arms wrap around me, just like he used to do when we were little and our foster mother was having one of her mental breaks. He used to sing in my ear to block out the screaming. He would do the same when we were put through foster home after foster home, when I was abused. Even when we were separated and Jake ran away after getting into trouble, he would find me, hold me, and sing me to sleep. He's always been there for me when I needed him, and God knows I need him now. I fall asleep, a small smile on my face, as he starts to softly hum.
It's strange how much a tiny strip of light from a hallway, through a slightly open door, can illuminate. How big he had seemed in the darkness. The way his eyes look more silvery than any real colour. How vast blackness makes everything look. The little halo of hair lit up from behind, as he'd just stood there and stared at us for the longest time, before creeping away and closing the door behind him—
I wake up with a scream stuck in my throat and covered in sweat. Jake is already awake, soothing me, his voice warm and his arms strong around me, whispering my name until my ears stop ringing.
“No one can hurt you, Clo,” he whispers. I reach out to the bedside lamp and turn it on to chase the monsters away. Jake is there, his smile soft. “It's just us here.”
I breathe in and then let it out slowly. He's right, as always, but burning in the back of my mind is a question I need the answer to.
Why did Sam leave?
How could he walk away when he could have saved me from the darkness swallowing me whole? From the pain ripping through every nerve ending in my body. From the sensation of having my soul ripped from my body as monsters tear me apart. Except these monsters aren’t demons or devils—they’re worse.
They’re men.
They’re every single man who has done unspeakable things to me.
Every man who took something from me that wasn’t theirs to take.
Things I wasn’t willing to give.
And the figure in the doorway…Sam…he could have helped.
Instead, he walked away, leaving me to suffer in my own personal hell.
When I wake up the next morning, Jake is gone. I shove myself up from the sweaty knot of sheets and force myself into the shower, before getting ready for school. I'm still shaken from the nightmare—or more like a living memory that I'll never be rid of—but I know I need to push through it and get my game face on. Once I get lost in the past, there is no knowing how long it will take for me to drag myself out of it.
The nightmares used to come a lot more often, but lots of therapy has made a difference for that. I have techniques and tools I can use to get over them a lot more quickly. Thankfully, there are fewer things that can actively trigger them during my waking hours. It's just when I get stressed out or something reminds me of my past that they come back with a vengeance. The last few months feel like one big constant reminder, and I think it’s really getting to me. I just want to forget and move on, but I know I can’t until this is over. I moved around so much when I was a kid; there were so many foster homes, I just want a place to call my own.
I want to feel safe, with my brother, far away from everyone else.
I can do it.
I will do it.
Just a little bit longer and then everything will be fine.
Sam isn't paying any attention to me in class.
Despite myself, I can't help feeling empty and confused by his mixed signals. Nobody kisses someone the way he kissed me without feeling something, so why is he ignoring me now? It’s like he can't even bear to look at me. Even though seducing him was all part of my plan, I can't help feeling a little used and hurt.
Balling up my shaking fists, I resist the urge to react. He doesn’t get to be the one who shuts me out. I want to jump out of my desk and walk over to him and pound my fists on his desk until he fucking looks at me. I’m not going to let him pretend I’m not here, or that he doesn’t see me. I’m not going to let him walk away like I don’t fucking exist or matter.
He ignored me before. I’m not going to let it happen again. He sure as shit liked looking at me the other night when he thought I was sleeping.
The bell rings, but I don’t move. Instead, I busy myself with packing up my backpack and wait for the last few students to file out so I can confront him.
A shadow hovers over me, so I look up, expecting Sam, but instead I find myself staring into the smiling face of Lucas. He's an attractive guy, tall and blond and athletic, with more swagger than sense. Most girls would be thrilled to have a guy like Lucas talk to them, but I’m not most girls. For me, he’s nothing more than an inconvenience. He leans against the desk behind him, folding his arms over his chest.
“Hey, new girl.”
“Can I help you with something?” I reply, tossing my hair.
“You can help me by saying you’ll come by my place tonight. My parents are out of town and I’m having a party.”
Parties are not really my thing, so I’m about to say no and wipe that confident smirk off his self-assured lips when I catch Sam’s gaze. He’s glaring at us, making no attempt to hide the disdain in his eyes. I can’t work out why he looks so damn angry and then it hits me. He’s jealous of me talking with Lucas.
Maybe I can work this to my advantage…
“Sure, why not?” I say, spreading my lips into a smile. “Text me your address and I’ll be there.”
I run my hand through my hair and smile as Lucas talks, even though I’m not really listening. I’m too focused on Sam, who looks like he wants to punch the shit out of Lucas. It feels kind of good knowing I’m getting under his skin. Maybe this is what I need to push him over the line and finally get him to act on the feelings he obviously has for me.
God knows I could use the break.
Lucas texts me his address after I give him my number, then he swaggers out of the classroom, leaving me and Sam alone. Grabbing my backpack, I sling it over my shoulder and go to leave, but he steps in front of me, blocking my way.
