Breaking the Wrong (21 page)

He rocks into me hard, and I feel him lengthen before he groans harshly. “Fuck!” he shouts.

I’m panting when Macsen collapses on top of me. His breath is warm against my neck as he holds me tightly. I stare at the ceiling, feeling more relaxed than I ever have.

When
Macsen rolls over and stands, he says nothing to me as he removes his condom, throws it away and walks to the bathroom. I hear the water running. Quickly, I pull the covers up over my body. My arm covers my eyes and I try to fight off the guilt that’s trying to claw its way into my mind. I can’t seem to regret it, but I’m starting to wonder if Macsen does.

The faucet shuts off in the bathroom. I hold my breath and when I feel the mattress dip next to my hip
, my body stiffens. Is this where he asks me to leave? I’ve never done a walk of shame and something tells me it won’t feel good.

But that
doesn’t happen.

Macsen brushes a hand down my arm. Slowly, I lift
the arm covering my eyes. He stares down at the sheet with a frown and pushes it away from my body. I panic and try to grab the sheet as it exposes my breast and stomach.

His eyes veer up to my face. All the lust is gone in his eyes and replaced with concern. “Don’t,” he tells me softly.

My hands let go of the sheet and it falls back onto my body. Macsen resumes pulling the sheet away and my pulse starts to hammer.

He looks calm
as he stares at my exposed skin. “Are you sore?” he asks quietly.

Honestly, I am
. I tell Macsen the truth. “Yes,” I whisper.

His head moves up and down
, letting me know he heard me. Macsen’s hands land on my thighs. He pushes them slightly apart and I immediately tense up because I’m not ready for round two.

Smiling softly, he glances at me. “Let me help.”

My legs open up on their own. But a frown never leaves my face as I watch his hand rest against my thigh. I see the cloth in his opposite hand and have no time to react before he gently presses the warm wet towel between my legs.

My body jerks in shock. All I can do is gape and watch Macsen as he frowns in
concentration and gently cleans me up. My lips curve up the same time that my heart breaks. This large man that scares most people with his intensity is taking care of me. It shocks even me.

The physical care he’s giving me makes the whole act of giving my virginity to him a lot more significant because right now he’s making me feel cherished. The pain is momentarily gone and I relax, just watching Macsen with complete shock.

Silently, he sits there. But he doesn’t need to say anything. Macsen’s already cracked through my defenses and shattered my guilt.

I don’t know how long I sit there staring at Macsen’s bent head, but when the towel turns cold, Macsen p
ulls it away and looks up at me solemnly. The warmth is still in his eyes. “I want you to stay tonight,” he tells me.

My head moves up and down. “I want that too.” And I do. I want
it so bad that when the words come out of his mouth, a sigh of relief almost escapes my lips.

His mouth curves into a half-smile and he kisses the side of my lips. “Sweet Emilia,” he murmurs. “So fucking sweet.”

My heart burns over his words.

He gets up to clean off the towel and this time, when I hear the water running, I know there’s nothing to panic over. That brings a smile to my face.

When Macsen comes back to the bed, he moves close to me. I stare at the wall blankly as I realize that I have followed Tosha’s advice. I’m broken glass, but I have shocked myself, and now there are tiny pieces of the truth cutting me open. I could bleed for Macsen Sloan—could spill the truth out to him. And the most terrifying truth of all is that I could love him.

Macsen hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me flush against his chest. I grab his hand and place it flat on my chest, above my heart.

It makes sense. He shares it with my sister now.

I’m officially going to hell.

MACSEN

She sleeps on her side, with her legs tucked tight to her body. Even when Emilia’s sleeping, she’s still trying to protect herself.

Rolling onto my back, I grasp the curve of her hip with my hand. Touching her feels good. When I touch her, she comes alive.

Sometimes, Emilia is ambiguous. When she speaks, there is always this double meaning, and I can never see the real truth. But she responds when I touch her and there’s nothing unclear about it. I know that it’s me she wants.

Turning my head, I stare at her back and her shoulder blades that are partially hidden by her long hair. I push all that hair away and kiss the skin in between her shoulder blades. Little goosebumps form on her skin. She moves her arm slowly and soon her head shifts. When she looks at me, her eyes are hooded and underneath her lids is a faint trace of her makeup.

She’s still fucking gorgeous. I still want her.

Emilia rolls over and her body collides into mine. She rests her chin on her open palm and looks down at me. “Good morning.”

I pull my eyes away from her tits and nudge my head in the direction of my alarm clock. “It’s more like good afternoon.”

She looks over at my nightstand, and her eyes widen. “I’ve missed two classes!” When she scrambles to get up, I hold on tight and she ends up sprawled across my chest.

“You’ve missed two already. How many classes do you have this afternoon?” I ask.

“Just one.”

“Miss it.” My hands drift down and cup her ass, pressing her as close as possible. “I know this great tutor. He’ll help you with anything.”

Emilia smiles playfully like a dangerous poison. “I’ve heard he’s mediocre.”

She slips out of my hold before I can do anything. Even when I try to speak, nothing comes out. Emilia stands completely naked in the middle of the room. Her eyes are on the floor, scanning the clothes dropped everywhere. Bending down, she grabs that small piece of lace that she calls underwear and slips it on. I sit up, trying to figure out which is hotter, Emilia taking her clothes off or watching Emilia put them on one by one.

She looks over at me, and her cheeks turn red. “Stop staring.”

Ignoring her, I keep looking at her body. With the sun shining through the blinds I can see everything perfectly. Emilia grabs her bra and goes to put it on. I grab her by the arm and pull her back to me. I like looking at her, looking at what I touched all night long.

She straddles my waist and cringes. “Are you still sore?” I ask her.

My hands go up to her perfect tits. I touch the skin that isn’t red from my stubble. It’s fascinating to me, my skin against hers. Touching her feels right, but looks wrong. I have cuts, calluses, and bruises. She’s flawless with white skin.

Her eyes close briefly before she pushes herself into my hands. “Yes, I’m still sore.”

When her eyes open, she blinks repeatedly before
she grabs my jaw and kisses me. I smile before her tongue slides against mine. Reaching around her neck, I wrap my hand around her head and pull her closer. Her nipples rub against my chest and her hands grasp my shoulders tightly.

I kiss her until I know her lips will be swollen. The bruises that are covered by her clothes are from me, but only I know that they are there. That pulls something out of me. It makes me want to brand her as mine. There needs to be an outward mark—something that every guy on campus will notice.

When she pulls away, she’s breathing erratically. “You’re lucky you’re a good kisser,” she teases lightly.

She pulls away and puts her bra on while I grab some boxers and sweatpants. I throw a t-shirt in her direction and sweatpants. She stares at them and I try to shrug my shoulders nonchalantly. “Just wear that.”

Emilia puts the pants against her body. “I think they’ll be a little big.”

“Roll up the pants.”

Emilia puts my shirt on first. The hem covers her ass. When she puts on my pants, she rolls up the waistline four times. “I look ridiculous.”

Crossing my arms, I look her up and down.
I like her wearing my clothes. Feels good. “You look fine.”

“I need to go to the bathroom.” She slips past me and turns around quickly. “Do you have any face wash?”

“Oh yeah,” I draw out. “It’s underneath the sink, right next to my pink shaver.” She gives me a dull expression and I laugh. “All we have is soap and shaving gel.”

“That’s good enough.”

I hear the door shut, and a few seconds later the water starts running. She takes a long time. Chris and I are in and out of the bathroom within a few minutes. After a while, I stop waiting and start to pick up my room like a fucking weirdo. I hate when things are dirty or out of place. It’s like the smell of smoke. It makes me feel filthy. I’m usually tempted to take a shower to get rid of the feeling. 

I drape Emilia’s clothes on my computer chair, and when I go back to my bed I see a blood stain on the middle of my sheets. My eyes are rooted on the stain. I didn’t know beforehand that she was a virgin. Maybe I wouldn’t have attacked her like a starving animal. Maybe I would have gone slower.
I can keep thinking of all the maybes, but the truth is, all it really took was one small touch and I was a goner.

A minute later she walks out. I turn back to look at her. All of her caramel hair is pulled up and her face is wiped clean. She looks too innocent, too sweet.

She walks up next to me and I rub my thumb across her cheek. “I’ve never seen you without all the glob.”

Emilia pulls back to give me a look. “It’s not glob, Macsen.”

“Makeup. Whatever you want to call it.” I shrug and look closely at her face. “I like this.”

“Me in the morning time? Maybe you drank more than I thought last night,” she teases. 

“I mean it.”

She stops smiling and something crosses her face. When she blinks, it has disappeared. Emilia looks down and pats my stomach. “Don’t get used to it. I feel naked without my makeup.”

I tug on her hair playfully. “I’ve seen you naked. It’s fucking amazing.”

She looks over her shoulder and walks down the hall just as Chris walks through the door. He slams the door and finally looks up. When he sees Emilia, and me standing behind her, a sly smile crosses his face. I give him a warning look and he completely ignores me.

He tosses his bag at the table. “Ah. I wondered who was screaming out, ‘Oh, God yes!’ last night.”

Emilia turns beet red and she quickly covers her face with her hands. Chris keeps talking. “But then I thought it was this one chick named Sammie, who I’m ninety percent sure is a hooker. She shares the same wall with us, so it had to be her because Macsen never has girls screaming out in his room...” He takes off his jacket and looks at me. “Unless it’s coming from the television.”

I flick him off and he laughs and walks into the kitchen. Leaning down, I whisper to Emilia. “Give him a few more minutes and he’ll leave us alone.”

She sits down on the nearest bar stool and looks over at me. “Could he really hear us?” she whispers.

Chris slams a few cabinets before he walks out carrying a box of fish food. “Hell yes, I could hear you guys. The two of you were loud.”

Emilia ignores him and points at the food in his hand. “You have a fish?”

“Yeah,” he holds the fish food in the air and shakes it up and down. “I’ve had Channing for a few months.”

Sitting down in the seat next to her, I tell her, “Please, don’t ask him about the fish.”

It’s too late for my warning. Emilia turns in her seat and watches Chris drop a few pieces of food into the fish bowl placed on the end table in the living room. “Does Channing have a last name?” she asks.

Chris snorts. “Yes, Tatum.”

“You named your fish after the guy from
Magic Mike
?”

“Let me explain it to you, Rapunzel. I named my fish after the dude from
Magic Mike
because all the girls start dropping panties when they hear that dude’s name.” He walks back into the kitchen and keeps speaking. “And when I tell them that I know Channing Tatum, and that he lives with me, they go fucking wild.”

“That’s deceptive,” she murmurs but there’s a smile on her face.

“And the world’s greatest method. I’ve had some of the greatest sex of my life thanks to that fucking fish.”

Emilia shakes her head and hops out of her seat. She walks into the kitchen and peers into a cabinet. “I’m starving.”

“Me too.” Chris holds his hands together and nudges his head in her direction. “Why don’t you make Macsen and I some food, woman!”

Turning around, she smiles brightly with a gleam in her eyes. “I’ll make Macsen something, and you can watch us eat our food while you talk to your fish, Channing.”

“Oh!” Chris claps loudly. “Rapunzel is coming alive. I like it.”

“We have nothing in the fridge, Emilia,” I tell her. “But if you open up the drawer behind you, there’s a bunch of take-out menus.”

She pulls out a few and lifts up the Jimmy John’s menu in the air. I give her a nod and grab my phone while she tells me what she wants. Walking down the hall, I order our food. When I turn around, Chris is right behind me. “She’s already making you do things,” he comments.