Page 56 of Broken Instrument

I palm myself through my jeans, the heat burning me alive as she moans my name.

“Fender…I’m coming. Shit, I’m coming, Fen.”

My heart pounds against my ribcage as she finishes orgasming, my own just out of reach until I unbutton the top of my jeans, squeeze the head of my cock, and am ripped apart by wave after wave of fucking bliss.

Damn.

I came in my palm like a freaking sixteen-year-old, and I don’t even care. Hands down, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced, and I refuse to ruin the moment by calling whatever just happened a mistake, though I’m sure my self-loathing will be in full effect by tomorrow.

Our heavy breathing mingles together in the otherwise silent room. Her hushed voice finally breaks it. “You can turn around, Fen.”

I gulp, reach for the tissue box on her nightstand, and wipe myself clean.

“Are you avoiding me?” she teases.

I scrub my clean hand over my face, wad the used tissue in my other hand, and glance over my shoulder.

With one leg straight and the other bent at the knee beneath the black and white comforter, she looks up at me with a soft smile capable of melting an iceberg.

“Hi.”

A low chuckle vibrates through my chest, and I squeeze the back of my neck. “Hey.”

“Will you snuggle me?”

Another laugh, louder this time, rises to the surface. “Snuggle you?”

“Yeah. I might not need sex anymore, but your touch still feels good. Please?”

“Hads––”

“Hold me,” she whispers, her eyes glazed with vulnerability. I don’t think it’s from the drugs. I think it’s from her. From what we just experienced. What we just did.

What we definitely shouldn’t have done.

But I’m weak. Too weak to tell her no. To go home. To leave her alone even when I know it’s what’s best for her.

With my heart in my throat, I tell her, “Give me a sec.”

The water is cool as I wash my hands and dry them while ignoring the voice inside my head telling me to get the hell out of here.

Once I’m finished, I climb into her bed and pull the covers over us before I can talk myself out of it. She cuddles into my side, her breathing soft and even against my chest until we both fall asleep.

19

FENDER

It’s still early. Or late, depending on how you look at it. I’d guess maybe three in the morning, but I’m not sure. There isn’t any light filtering in from the window, but my body feels like a livewire. Hadley is pressed against me, her breathing soft and shallow, tickling my neck as she nuzzles closer. Last night was…a mess. And even though she begged me to stay, I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have let her do that. Touch herself. Especially not in front of me. But I didn’t know what else to do.

I was weak.

I look down at the woman curled against me.

I’m still weak.

Because I want to stay. I want to kiss her. To tell her I like her. To ask if she’d be willing to take a chance on a screw-up like me.

But would it be a mistake? Would it hurt her in the long run? I scrub my free hand over my face, unsure what to do. I didn’t crave any drugs last night while I was with her, but who’s to say I won’t the next time? Will there be a next time? She was drugged, for God’s sake. Will she even remember what happened in the morning?

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