Broken by Love (The Basin Lake Series Book 2) Page 10

  “It’s very nice to meet you, too,” I break in, not wanting Angela to muck this up. “I’m sorry about running up to John like that. I’m just overwhelmed by all of this.”

  “Oh, no need to apologize.” His eyes land on Angela briefly before they return to me. “If I didn’t grow up with this kind of spectacle all around me, I’d be overwhelmed too.”

  John has since moved to my side, his arm around my shoulder. His touch electrifies and comforts me.

  “John mentioned you live in New York?” I ask, hoping to at least win over his brother with my conversational skills.

  “That I do. I work at a law firm and spend the rest of the time enjoying the city. I’ll get back here someday when I’m a little older and ready to settle down.”

  “How old are you exactly?” Angela practically purrs.

  “As old as my buddy, Stephen,” he says, an obvious reminder Angela is supposed to be dating his friend.

  “Practically ancient then,” she says. “Look, it’s been lovely, but I’m in need of a refreshment. If you’d all excuse me?”

  And just like that, Angela saunters off. Stephen looks a little stunned, like he’s just been slapped.

  “Aren’t you going with her?” Michael asks with an entertained look on his face.

  “I guess so.” Stephen shrugs, stuffs his hands in his pockets and goes after her.

  Both John and Michael look at me with a mix of amusement and wonder.

  “She’s one of a kind,” I say with a smile, which is quite the understatement.

  “Indeed,” Michael says.

  “Do you feel up to meeting my parents?” John asks, holding me tighter to him.

  I take in a deep breath. “Yes. I think I’m ready.”

  “Well, let’s go and find them then,” Michael adds, leading the way.

  You’d think it would be easy to find someone at a house party, but that’s not the case when the house the party is being held in is somewhere between six-and seven-thousand square feet—not just a guess but the figure I heard someone throw out while Angela and I were under that Japanese Maple. And that doesn’t even count the exterior, which is cut up into different entertainment sections, some with gas fire pits and lounging furniture, another with a giant pool, yet another with a hot tub under a very modern, Japanese-style gazebo.

  All the while, I’m a nervous wreck, just wanting to get meeting his parents over with. When we do finally find Mr. and Mrs. Mercer, they’re indoors, just off one of the main patios, in a room with a long bar and two bartenders dressed in white tuxedos. The Mercers look surprised to see us, as if the last thing they were expecting all at once were their two sons flanking the girl I’m not sure either approve of.

  “Mother… Father…” Michael says with a wry smile.

  Mr. Mercer is the first to glance at me. He’s tall like his sons with a full head of gray hair. He’s wearing a khaki colored, trim style suit with a white shirt beneath—I can’t help but think his wife picked it out for him and is perhaps the main driver in making sure her husband keeps up his lean physique.

  “We’d begun to wonder where you’d disappeared to,” he says, his eyes dancing toward his oldest son. “Looks as though you’ve found your little brother.”

  “He found me,” Michael says, “and then we went off in search of this beautiful girl you see standing here beside us.” He turns and winks at me.

  “Well, of course,” Mr. Mercer says, putting his hand out to mine. “Good to meet you. Martin Mercer.”

  “You too, Mr. Mercer.” I swallow hard and hope my hand isn’t sweaty when I take his.

  “Mother,” John says, looking directly at the woman with dark blonde hair and a classically beautiful face. “This is Emma Chambers.”

  She nods softly, and her full lips eventually develop into a smile. “Indeed it is. Pleased to meet you, Miss Chambers.” She takes the hand that has been freed by her husband and lightly shakes it. There is no warmth or kindness in either her touch or her smile.

  “Lovely girl,” Mr. Mercer says with a smile I hope to be genuine. “John here has talked a lot about you. Indeed he has. I just hope you’ll be sure and keep the boy out of trouble.”

  “Madison had a knack for keeping him out of it,” Mrs. Mercer slides in with her smooth voice. “I believe she’s here. Have you talked to her, Jonathan?”

  John slowly shakes his head, his face reddening with anger while I’m hit with the disappointment her mention of John’s ex elicits.

  “I knew this was a mistake,” he says.

  “Oh, Jonathan… really.” Mrs. Mercer’s ivory dress floats around her as she moves toward her son. “You can’t just spring something like this on us when you’d practically been engaged to Madison.”

  “Your mother has a point,” Mr. Mercer cuts in while John’s hands morph into fists.

  “This isn’t the place, Mother,” Michael says.

  “It was nice meeting both of you,” I say, my voice cracking with emotion. Afraid that I might start to cry at any second, I pull away from John and take off in one of those half runs, desperate to keep from looking like a histrionic wreck in front of them.

  “You happy now?” I just hear John saying before I push my way through the house and finally out the front door and into the sea of cars that continue to arrive with new guests.

  It’s now that I wish I had a car of my own that I could slide into and escape this embarrassment. I don’t want to disappoint John by my tears and my apparent weakness. I’d wanted to be strong in facing his parents, having envisioned answering his mother by saying something like, “Oh, I’m sure Madison was good for John at one point, but that’s all over now. You’ll see how good I am for him, and even if you don’t, I really don’t care.”

  Just the thought of those words brings a slight smile to my face and is enough to push the tears off.

  “There you are,” John says, practically barreling through the front door and pulling his arms around me. “I’m so damn sorry.”

  In reaction to him, I bury my face in his chest. His parents’ coldness toward me is no more his fault than my mother’s alcoholism or my father’s absence from my life.

  “It’s not your fault,” I say quietly. “But I’d like to leave if you don’t mind?”

  “Of course.” Without hesitation, he takes my hand and leads me toward his SUV.

  It’s not until he’s driven off of the property that I finally feel relief, rolling my window down, closing my eyes and allowing the end of summer sun to warm my face.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JOHN

  I wish I could say that my parents’ abysmal behavior was unexpected. They’d made up their minds about Emma before they’d even met her, before they’d seen what a beautiful girl she was or looked into her wide green eyes or witnessed how kind and compassionate she was to complete strangers the way I had. They’d based any thoughts of her on the disappointment of Madison and I not working out. As if them treating Emma the way they did would make me any more interested in giving Madison and I another chance.

  “I’m so damn sorry.” We’re on the Lake Washington floating bridge, driving toward Seattle, and I’m holding her hand.

  “You already said that, and I already told you it’s not your fault,” she says with such kindness. “I wish you’d stop apologizing.”

  “But how can I help it? They didn’t treat you right at all, Emma, and I should have known they wouldn’t be able to help themselves. So, it is my fault.”

  “It’s not,” she says, moving our clasped hands over to her lap. “If you met my mother, she’d probably say something just as socially awkward. Your parents are snobs and my mom is an alcoholic. It’s just the way it is.”

  I laugh heartily. I’d been so angry, but just being next to Emma has managed to calm me. “Why don’t I take you somewhere nice? I don’t want to risk going back to the house in Wallingford.”

  “You don’t have to babysit me. You can drop me off and head back to the
party if you need to.”

  “Never! There isn’t anyone there I want to see except for maybe my brother, but there’ll be time enough for that.”

  “Do you think he approves of me?” she asks with all sincerity.

  “Of course. He seemed taken the moment he met you. How could he help it?” And I think maybe that’s true, that he was against us at first, but after meeting Emma, he’s surely got to support us.

  “If you say so. At least we’ve got one on our side.”

  “My sister, Sarah, would love you too. But she’s in Mozambique… or Malta… damn, I’m not sure. She likes to travel, but she doesn’t stay put in one place for very long.”

  “I’d love to meet her someday.”

  “And I’d love to meet your family too,” I remind her. “Whatever you feel about your parents, I’d like them to know there is a man who is very much in love with their daughter.”

  “I love you too, John. More than you know.”

  Hearing those words from her sends a warm sense of fullness through my body, one that fills whatever emptiness had been there.

  EMMA

  When John suggested we get a room at a really nice hotel downtown, I understood that our relationship was about to graduate to a new level.

  I’d been so cautious with him. There had been so many times I’d wanted to truly connect with him, to go up to his room or even find a secluded spot to park his SUV and finally feel all of him. But he’d never pushed me or made me feel as though that’s all he’d wanted, and so I’d drifted along, feeling as though waiting would make it more special, more valuable. It was also a way to safeguard my heart.

  “Is this all right?” John stands behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and leaning his chin on my shoulder, both of us looking out the window and through the buildings to Elliot Bay and the islands beyond the city.

  “It’s a beautiful room,” I say, not wanting to think about how much it cost.

  “A beautiful room for a beautiful girl.” John turns my body toward his so that I’m looking up into those gorgeous blue-gray eyes of his.

  “There are things about me that aren’t so beautiful,” I say, afraid that he’s built up this ideal image of me in his head and that once he finds out who I really am, his disappointment will be impossible to hide.

  “Don’t say that.” He brushes his hand across my cheek, and I close my eyes, intoxicated by his touch.

  I don’t say anything. When I open my eyes, his are heavy with desire, and he must feel what I’m feeling, a pulsating warmth, a rapidly beating heart, heat below the abdomen. And beyond that there is an emotional yearning that I’d never thought possible to feel again.

  He takes my hand and leads me toward the very large bed that is perfectly made with a luxurious cream-colored comforter and matching pillows against the headboard. The bed itself stops the progress of our movement when my legs butt up against it. John kisses me again, holding his firm hands over my ass while his tongue delves into my mouth. His hardness is apparent, and I can barely contain my need to feel it. I grip my hands around his back, not quite reaching up to his shoulders and surely leaving a dent in his skin from the firmness of my hold.

  “God, you’re so beautiful, Emma.” His breath is warm against my neck.

  “John…” I murmur, unable to say much else except to drag my hands back around to his front and unlatch the button of his slim fit khakis before pulling down the zipper, nearly catching it against the bulge beneath.

  “I love you,” he says to me, bringing his hands up and over my shoulders and then running them down my bare arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps and sending a shiver up my spine.

  “I love you too… so much.” I tug at the band of his boxer briefs, anxious to see him, desperate to have him fill me.

  He unzips the back of my dress, loosening it enough to pull one strap over my shoulder while I push my hands upward, underneath his button up shirt, against the hard, warm skin of his abdomen, only pulling away so that I can begin to undo the buttons.

  The second strap of my dress falls to the wayside, and then the entire dress falls to the ground with nothing more than a brief moment’s worry about wrinkling it that quickly disappears. I stand before John in an expensive pair of heels I got on clearance at Nordstrom’s, but he looks far more interested in the white lace bra and panty set from Victoria’s Secret.

  “Emma,” John says, stepping back from me while holding my hips. “Oh, wow….”

  Though my arms are stretched out a bit, I don’t stop fingering the buttons of his shirt until I’ve gotten the last one and push the material open, exposing a developed, hard chest with a smattering of well groomed hair across it.

  John releases my hips only to quickly pull his shirt off, and I’m in awe. His skin is tanned, his shoulders freckled. He is massive in comparison to any man I’ve been with before, his shoulders wide, his height easily at six feet. No wonder Ike, who is a few inches shorter, had run from him like a dog with a tail between its legs.

  When I slip out of my heels, he looks even larger. I’m a solid five foot seven, but I still have to gaze up at him.

  “I’m an idiot,” he says, drawing me back toward him and holding me close to his body, his pants still on but open at the crotch.

  “Why?” I ask, feeling so at peace, so right against his warmth.

  “I didn’t think to bring a condom. I don’t suppose you’re on the pill, are you?”

  I shake my head, disappointed, but unwilling to risk an unplanned pregnancy.

  “I can call the front desk,” he offers with a hopeful lilt to his voice and a brightening of his eyes.

  “Wait,” I say, shaking my head slightly at my forgetfulness. “I have a couple… well, one at least, in my purse.”

  “Oh?” For a second, I’m sure he sees this as the sign of a girl who expects to have sex with a lot of guys instead of one who just happens to be prepared, but his concern melds into a thankful smile.

  “I’ve kept it for us,” I say, which is mostly true, even if I’d always carried them when I’d gone to the clubs, never trusting that the men I’d rarely hooked up with would have the foresight to carry them.

  “Of course,” he says, following me over to my purse while I dig through it and produce a condom.

  “I hope it’s big enough.” I’m not entirely jokingly. John is large, as I’d suspected he might be based on the times he’d become excited during our make out sessions or when he’d hold me up against him.

  “I’m sure it’s fine.” He swallows hard and takes the packet away from me, leading me back to the bed with his other hand.

  John quickly disposes of his khakis and shoes, and I help him pull the heavy comforter back, revealing silky soft sheets below.

  I’m wet by the time he lifts me onto the bed and undoes the hooks of my bra with an expert-like ease. He appears to notice the dampness of my panties when he pulls them off, and the smile on his face tells me it pleases him.

  There could be a million and one things happening in the world right now, right outside of our window, but I wouldn’t notice any of them because all I can see is John.

  “Would you put it on for me?” he asks, his manhood at full attention, the skin so tight, and his eyes looking at me with the same kind of desperation I feel.

  He’s already opened it, and so I take it and fumble at first before taking a deep breath and pulling the barrier over him, looking into his intense eyes once it’s halfway in place. When it’s completely on, I kiss him while he envelops me in his arms.

  Lying against the bed, I open myself to him, and when he enters me, there isn’t any pain or discomfort, just the pleasing fullness of his girth gliding into me, filling me, making me feel at one with him.

  I’m drunk on him as he showers me with kisses and repeated vocalizations of love, all the while gently thrusting his thickness into me and helping to define just what heaven must feel like.

  I stifle my cries for the first orgasm he
gives me, but I’m unable to do that the second… or third time around. My cries only excite him more, and he increases his thrusts, eventually rising on his knees and holding my thighs with his strong arms as he continues to fill me. Not once does he take his eyes away from mine, and I do the same, though it’s difficult not to look at his perfectly developed chest and strong abdomen or drift lower to the place where we join as one.

  He releases himself in a somewhat tortured way, a male orgasm that goes on for some time, and I hold firmly to him, not wanting to see any sort of pain on his face. When he has pushed the last thrust into me, he pulls out, yanks the condom off, and then slides his body over mine, pulling me toward him and kissing every inch of my upper body.

  “That was amazing… beyond amazing, Emma. Just another reason that I love you,” he says once he’s caught his breath.

  “You were awfully good yourself.” I touch the tip of his nose with my finger. “But you looked pained. Are you okay?”

  He chuckles. “If I looked pained, it’s because I’ve never felt something that intense before. Never.”

  “Really?” If I tell him the same thing, would he believe I wasn’t just trying to match his compliment?

  “Yes, really.” He holds me a little tighter. “You’re amazing, in every way, Emma.”

  “You are too,” I say, deciding that I’ll tell him whether he believes me or not.

  “You aren’t just saying that, are you?” he asks with a crooked smile.

  “I wouldn’t lie about that to you,” I reply. No, there are other things to lie about, but not this.

  “Okay,” he says, letting out an easy breath. “Then I guess we just happen to be perfect for one another.”

  “Yes, you’re right.”

  So very, very right.

  I wish I could just lie here forever with John, remain in this warm, loving, perfect bubble and never leave, never have to face the harshness of the real world, a past that is hard to escape, and John’s family who I fear could break us apart.

  In lieu of that, I focus on his now calm, quiet breaths and make myself a promise to remember every good moment with him.