Page 62 of Broken
“Just don’t leave.” My voice breaks on the last word as a knot forms in my throat and tears fill my eyes.
“I’m right here.” He runs his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp like I used to do for him when he was upset and needed to sleep. “I’m so sorry.”
I shiver at his words and the cool nip in the air. Dad always liked having the air on until Mom needed a sweater. Goose bumps cover my skin, and Eli rubs at my arms.
“It’s the middle of the night. Let’s get some sleep.” I pull back enough to look up at him in the darkness of the room. I’m exhausted, but I’m afraid to sleep. What if I wake up again and he’s gone again? I don’t think I would be able to keep my shit together.
“You can’t leave again,” I tell him with his eyes locked on mine, his blue eyes dimmed by sadness. “I woke up and you were gone. I won’t live through it a second time.”
He chews on his lip for a second, searching my face for something. Fear, pain, and sadness flash across his features, but I’m sure it’s a mirror of my own.
“You’re mine, and I will find a fucking way to keep you. Just give me some time to get it sorted.” I sound desperate and pathetic, but with nothing but raw vulnerability left, I don’t have a choice. There’s nothing left inside of me. No mask. No shield.
“Sleep,” he says, trying to slide off my lap, but I don’t let him move. I roll us and settle on top of Eli. I need to know he’ll be here when I wake up, that he can’t or won’t slip away again.
With my face in his neck, I close my eyes, breathing in the only safety net I have. It’s frayed and barely hanging on, but it’s keeping me tethered to the shore. The floodwaters are rising, but with him, I’m not afraid.
Eli plays with my hair, relaxing into the mattress and pillows like he’s been waiting for this too, and I quickly fall asleep.
* * *
When I wake again,the room is full of light, and Eli is squirming under me.
“Stop moving,” I grumble, wrapping my arm under him to palm his ass.
“I have to pee. Get off!” He shoves at my shoulder, and I reluctantly roll off of him.
He races from the bed to the bathroom, and I sit up when I hear him flush and wash his hands. My stomach clenches with anxiety at the thought that he’s going to run off again.
In the morning light, the tragedy of my life is just as ugly, but I can’t lose him. He’s the only bright spot in my world. He’s all I have. My anchor when the storm rages.
He stops in the doorway when he sees me sitting up.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, shuffling his feet and chewing on his lip. I don’t respond, just look at him. Reallylookat him. There are dark circles under his eyes. The glow is gone, and it looks like he’s been wearing that old T-shirt and sleep shorts for days, yet he doesn’t look or smell like he hasn’t bathed.
I get off the bed and stalk toward him with long strides. Reaching for the back of his neck, I pull his face up to mine and take his lips. He gasps against my mouth, opening so perfectly for me. My tongue tangles with his, needing every connection to him I can get. He won’t promise not to leave, or he would have already, but I’ll take anything else I can get from him.
When I release his lips, he’s flushed and panting, gripping my shirt in his hands for balance.
“Shower with me,” I say as I push on his hip to back him into the bathroom. He goes willingly, watching me as he steps backward until he hits the sink. I spin him to look in the mirror and strip him bare. His cock is half hard in the reflection, so I reach around his body to stroke him. He sucks in a breath when I pump him quickly. His chest blossoms in a beautiful shade of red, and his hands clench at his sides.
“Asher,” he starts, turning to look up at me.
“Watch.” I keep my eyes on his face in the mirror as I drag my other hand up his body to pinch at his nipples. His moan echoes in the room as I pick up the speed of my strokes. I want him desperate, needy, aching to come.
Eli’s breathing picks up, his hips thrusting against my hand until he’s throbbing. He’s sticky with precum that I itch to taste. My poor boy is so close already.
His breath hitches as his body tightens, his orgasm so fucking close to the surface when I let go of him, and he sinks against the counter with a heartbreaking whimper.
“What the fuck?” Eli sobs and drops his head to hang from his shoulders as he trembles. I wrap my arm around him, my hand flat against his lower stomach and my mouth on his neck. I can feel his muscles twitch and clench under my palm.
“I’ll make up for it, I promise.”
Once he’s steady on his feet, I strip my clothes off and turn the water on. Reaching for his hand, I thread our fingers and pull him in with me. I step under the spray and pull him against my back. His arms wrap around me, our fingers still intertwined. I lift our conjoined hand to my lips and kiss the back of his hand.
He kisses along my spine, my ribs, everything he can reach from this position.
With the heat of the water on my chest and Eli wrapped around me, I can pretend for just a minute that everything is normal. That I’m not completely alone. That I don’t have the weight of my father’s estate looming over me while I’m trying to keep my performance up on the field. Who needs rest?