Page 31 of Breakaway

I close my eyes and sink into the water as Turk’s cock fills me. Part of my head tenses against the memories, but the pleasure, the warmth, the comforting strokes of his palms on my hips and thighs soothe me. His words of encouragement, of connection fill me.

You’re mine, Cat. I’m yours.

Mine. Someone for me. Someone who wants me. Is it really possible?

He captures my hips in his broad palms. “Put your hands on my shoulders. You’ve been doing all the work. Let me help.”

He works my body, thrusting and lifting until that tight knot of need explodes and we both come crashing down.

With my head on his shoulder, he cradles me to him. Periodically he partially drains then warms the water surrounding us. All the while he strokes my back, my hips, my thighs, and whispers tender words of praise, kindness and a future together.

His phone pings, sending reality crashing down on us. I lean up. “Are you going to get that?”

“No. This is our sanctuary. We are not being bothered here. After we get out and dry off, I’ll check it in the other room.”

A few minutes later he climbs out first, then lifts me out and carefully dries every inch of me before tending to himself. I slip his T-shirt on, he wears his lounge pants. Together we cross to the kitchen.

“What can I get you to drink?” he asks.

“Juice?”

“Apple, orange or mango?”

‘Mango.” Handing me a bottle, he takes a swig of his own before leaning back against the opposite counter and opening his phone. I can tell by the grimace on his face it’s bad news. “Is it Tatum? Mel?”

“They’re fine.” Lifting his gaze to mine, he answers softly. “Missy’s dead. They found her in her car on the east side. She wasn’t alone. Baylor was with her. They appear to have died of an overdose. Slack probably paid them off with tainted drugs. They’ll know more after the autopsy.”

“He’s taking out witnesses and flunkies he doesn’t trust. Something he learned from my stepfather.”

“Probably.”

“Poor Missy.”

“This is not your fault. Missy came from money. She wanted for nothing. It was her choice to get into drugs and to pony up with a piece of shit like Baylor. YOU had nothing to do with her choices.

“She had options. Something you never had. I can’t imagine what it was like for you growing up like you did. Did your mom protect you at all? Oh god, did your stepfather abuse you too?”

“Not me. Mom. But not me. She’d intercede and then would pay the price. She tried to be a good mom in that respect. I learned early to stay quiet and hidden when he was home.”

It’s so embarrassing having him know all the dirty details of my life. “What now?”

“We keep waiting.”

“I really need something to do. I’m… I don’t sit around well. I’m at practice or at the diner helping out. I have nervous energy.”

“Can you cook?”

“Mel’s been teaching me. I can do some things.”

“I’m only good at breakfast and steaks. After that, it’s take out or box pizza.”

“I can help with that.”

“There isn’t a lot in my cupboards. Let’s make a list for a few days and order groceries to be delivered. We can make dinner together.”

“Mel taught me his secret cake recipe. I can make dessert.”

“Then we’ll get ice cream. I have the sports channel so we can find a hockey game and chill.”

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