Page 100 of Breaking Away

“What else do maids do?” A water droplet slides along his clenched jaw and drips onto my cheek. “If this isn’t enough, what else can I do? How do you want me, Princess?”

My legs tremble. He notices and a big, warm palm comes down and holds me in place. I softly hiss.

“You’re so soft,” he accuses. “And tense.”

Slowly, his hand moves up and down, applying pressure. “How do I make you feel good? How do I show you I’m sofucking sorry that I couldn’t be who you needed me to be tonight? Please, Kavi. Tell me.”

His desperation makes my core tighten.

I’m wet—down there. How can I not be? It’s worse because I like Dmitri. Help me, but I do. That’s why this hurts. He makes my heart go off-rhythm, and I should hate it. I’m not supposed to let another man in again, not after what happened last time. I should block off whatever is swirling between us because he’s just another hockey player. He’s told me himself—and yet, here he is, telling me I can take whatever I want from him. That he fucked up. That he’s sorry.

Dmitri watches me carefully. His big hand is indescribably capable. Squeezing away soreness, but inspiring such emptiness somewhere else.

I shudder.

“That’s it, Princess. Relax.”

We’re both breathing so hard.

“Let me take care of you. Let me give you whatever you want.”

“Dmitri,” I complain.

“I know, Princess. You can do anything on your own. You’re so strong and brilliant.” His grip applies pressure to the underside of my knee, and then he dips lower, soothing my calves. “You are capable of anything, I know. It’s only a matter of time before you stand and conquer it all. You don’t know how fucking proud of you I am. How much you inspire me.”

I whimper.

He’s petting my entire leg now, alternating between them. Up, down. Up, down. I’m going incoherent under his hands, straining against them.

His mouth finds my ear. “You can rely on me, I swear. I won’t let you down—trust me again?—”

My hand shoots out. I cover his mouth.

There’s a big, dangerous word. Trust.

I’ve learned how flimsy it can become.

If I’m being honest, I don’t know if I really trust any more. Definitely not Tyler. And… maybe… not even my parents… whichhurts.

But—today—I wanted to trust myself.

“I went out,” I remind him. “Without you.”

Does he get what a big deal it was for me? Even if it sounds so inconsequentially minor.

I made a decision about myself. How sad that I can’t remember the last time I’ve completely put myself first, against the overwhelming pressure inside me to soothe another person’s feelings.

He can’t speak. My fingers are still over his mouth.

Dark golden eyes wait, not fighting me.

It’s my turn to tilt my head and raise myself enough so my mouth goes to his ear.

“I’m….” I whisper. “Trying. To choose me. And I don’t know what happened tonight and why you went home, but I was really disappointed, okay? I have no right to be, but I was.”

Because I might have lived with a lifetime of people not basing any decisions around me and clawed back promises, but?—

I blink back tears.

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