Their Broken Pieces by Jessica Gomez

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Jasmine

 

 

My heart constricts at Alex’s silence, confirming my suspicions. He has no intentions of this being permanent, breaking my heart all over again. His face falls when I take my clothes and dress in the bathroom, giving us both time to realign our emotions.

After dressing, I do my makeup and comb my hair; trying to string out the last minutes in private, solidifying the crumbing walls within. Knowing I’ll face him again soon is strumming my nerves, I mean, I am locked in his damn bathroom. The facts break down that we both want each other badly. Desire reflects in his eyes, a fire that lights his obsidian, bringing them back to the chocolate I remember from years ago. He may not love me, but I know he cares, or at least I hope he does, and I’m not reading the situation completely wrong. He’s right though, I realize. This could never work between us when we return home. Margret would never allow it, and for whatever reason, Alex is still working on his issues. He can’t quite drop his guard enough to build on us, not the way I need him to. A plan forms to propose a compromise as I open the door and step out.

While I’ve hidden in the bathroom collecting my thoughts and dressing for the day, Alex did his own changing next to the bed. When the bathroom door clicks open, he turns, concern written across his furrowed brows. A smile finds my lips easily, along with the flush in my cheeks, remembering that his beautiful mouth was just south of my border only an hour ago.

He’s wearing a pair of dark khaki shorts and a solid black, short-sleeved shirt that’s hugging his tattooed muscles like a second skin. His hair is still wild from my fingers—and probably his too—clawing through its silky raven strands.

“Hi,” I say shyly, as if it’s our first introduction.

Relief flashes in his eyes. “Hey,” he replies, and walks toward me slowly. “Are we all right?”

His chocolate searches my blues when I nod, silently double-checking the reply. “Yeah.”

Seconds later, his strong arms band around my waist, clinging to a future that’s already whisked away on the Hawaiian breeze. My heart beats erratically, matching his rapid breaths, sensing he wants to say something. Too scared of the pleas that’ll fall freely from my lips, an alternative plan forms, cutting off any apologies or falsehoods he may offer.

“Listen, Alex… I know when we get home things will be different.” His body freezes, every muscle tensing. “Margret would freak, and who knows what she’d do if she found out that we’ve been spending time together. And you, I’m not sure what you’re working through, but it’s obvious you’re not ready for whatever this could be.” A lump rises in my throat, suffocating any seed of love that tries to sprout between us, as if we’re breaking up when we have yet to begin. “It’s different here, though.” When his eyes find mine for the first time, they’re searching, pleading, for what? I’m not sure. “No one knows us, and the classmates that do, we can hide from… we can be together until we go back home.” His brows dip, debating, lips thinning sharply, like a shark fin cutting through the ocean, processing my offering. “I’m not ready to let you go.” The last sentence slips free, showcasing a hint of the desperation I’m trying to lock away.

His eyes rest on mine solidly; desire, lust, and yes, even some kind of love, shine through, slicing the beating organ in my chest. The best and worst kind of pain. It’s all there plain-as-day to see, and it’s enough to answer my question. He doesn’t want to give up on us, either.

Confusion contours his beautiful face as he tightens his hold, pleading silently, unsure of what to say while shaking his head slowly. “Jasmine, I—”

My hand snaps up, quick as lightning to cover his mouth. “Shh. Let’s just enjoy it. No wasting time, starting now.” My last words are a whisper against his lips as mine press to his frantically.

His response is immediate. One arm bands against my lower back, bringing our hips together, while the other tangles through my dripping ebon locks as his tongue dances with mine, wildly, as if this was our last kiss.

Our panting breaths reach a crescendo when I fiddle with the button on Alex’s pants. Suddenly, his hand clamps down against mine, stopping my progress, but his flush face says it’s the last thing he wants to do. “Jasmine… I can’t stand the thought of taking advantage of you. No sex. If we’re separating after this week, I couldn’t live with myself if I took that from you.” The words are choked free from his tight voice, but that’s all they are, words. Every other part of his body is screaming yes, that he craves me as much as I need him, that what we have isn’t just a passing fancy. “We can do anything else, everything else, just not that.”

Searching his sincerity and coming away with truth, words of placation are all I can offer, because one way or another, he’s going to be mine before we leave. “All right. We’ll skip it, for now, but you don’t get to decide who I give myself to.” The agreement comes with a catch. I’ll let it lie for now, but he’s not getting away that easily as I press my breasts to his solid chest, and continue to pop the button on his shorts.

His breath hitches and bursts free, heating and feathering my neck as I grip his hardness in my hand, and start leisurely pumping his length.

“Carajo,” Alex groans, slamming his head against the wall behind him, utterly defenseless against my assault.

My heart’s filling and fracturing as I tuck my head under his chin, brushing a kiss to his sharp jaw with my words, “Why does it feel like we’re breaking up and never going to see each other again?”

He squeezes tighter, still minding my injuries. “I guess we are, breaking up, I mean.” His voice is a whisper, as if saying the words aloud will conjure reality. “Right now, though, I have you here, in my arms, and I don’t plan on wasting it.” Coming back to life, his hand tangles in my hair again, clenching tightly to the point of pain, and angling my lips for the deepest penetration. The kiss holds a thousand words, a thousand gestures, and a thousand goodbyes. My lips tremble when I breathe him in, remembering and storing every scent, every cut and angle of his tone, muscular body, every touch and kiss, every word.

The moan that slips between our lips reassures, driving me to my knees, wanting to take everything he offers, and more. When my lips wrap around him, a hiss of breath escapes between his clenched teeth. His head smacks the wall again as his hand tightens within my raven mane, encouraging a faster pace while murmuring, “Jesus, Jasmine. Tu boca se siente tan jodidamente bien.” There’s no understanding, but the tone says to keep going, don’t stop.

And I don’t. Not until his body is quivering, lips are spewing unintelligible Spanish, and he’s releasing down my throat with a shout of surprise.

When I stand, wiping the corners of my mouth, exhilaration thrumming from the bold action, a sense of smug satisfaction permeates with Alex’s dazed expression.

“Did I do it right?” The innocent act is for show. Sure, this is the first blowjob I’ve ever given, but I’ve watched enough porn to know what to do. The question’s mostly for Alex’s benefit.

He growls and yanks me against his chest, devouring my lips like a starved man. When his tongue’s thoroughly explored, he answers. “You did real good, querida. Now, let me feed you again. Let’s go get lunch.”