Page 76 of Tuned To Break
He watches me for a beat, eyes scanning like he’s checking for more damage than I’m letting on. Then he steps in, tugging his shirt off, then mine, his hands slow and reverent. I don’t fight it. I’m too tired, too full, too raw to keep up the tough-girl act.
Each kiss he presses to my shoulders, my collarbone, my neck isn’t sexual. Not yet. It’s worship. Grounding. His way of sayingI’m here and I’ve got youwithout words.
“Better?” he murmurs once we’re in the shower, his arms around me as the water runs over us.
“Yeah.” My voice is small but real. I rest my cheek against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart like it’s the only rhythm I trust.
We dry off in soft silence, and he helps me into one of his old T-shirts he’s left here. It drowns me in all the best ways—like armour and comfort and Jake wrapped into one.
But when we crawl into bed and he pulls me into his arms, the air shifts. My breath hitches when his hand brushes the inside of my thigh. Not intentional. Not a move. Just... a ripple of something warm and wanting waking up underneath all the ache.
I tip my face up to his. “Jake?”
He hums, his hand settling gently on my hip.
“I don’t want to feel anything but you right now.”
His eyes turn molten. “You sure?”
“I don’t want soft right now. I want to feel like I’m not broken. Like I’m real.”
His lips part, jaw flexing like he’s holding back a dozen emotions. “Then let me give you that.”
His hand slides under the shirt, finding bare skin, gripping tight enough to anchor. His other hand trails up and curls gently—firmly—around my throat, his thumb stroking where my pulse jumps.
“You wanna feel real, baby?” he whispers, leaning in until our noses brush. “Let me make you forget everything but me. Let me take all that ache and turn it into something good.”
My breath comes out shaky, but I nod. “Please.”
His grip tightens just a little—enough to make my toes curl.
“Say it again.”
“Please,” I whisper.
“That’s my girl.” He kisses me hard, no hesitation. It’s rough and all-consuming, all tongue and teeth and want. His hand stays wrapped around my neck like a possessive necklace—not choking, just there—reminding me who’s holding me together.
He rolls on top of me, one knee nudging my legs apart, his cock already hard and heavy between us. I can feel him through his briefs, pressing against my heat like a promise.
“You’ve got no fuckin’ clue what you do to me, Stella,” he growls against my mouth. “You walk into that workshop, all boss energy and tight skirts and fire in your eyes, and all I wanna do is bend you over my desk and fuck you.”
His hips grind down, dragging a moan from my throat.
“You want that?” he breathes. “You want me to fuck the stress out of you?”
“Yes,” I gasp.
“Yeah, you do.” His voice drops lower, dirtier. “Wanna feel this pretty cunt stretch around my cock. While you forget all the hurt you’re feeling.”
He drags the shirt up and over my head, exposing me fully, his gaze hungry. “You’re mine tonight. No past, no pain. Just this. Just us.”
“Jake—”
He silences me with another kiss, then sits back to strip out of the rest of his clothes. The second he’s naked, he’s on me again, spreading me open, slipping his fingers between my folds.
“You’re already wet for me,” he murmurs, satisfied. “Fuck, I love this body. Love how it responds to me. Like it knows I’ll take care of you, even when I’m being rough.”
He circles my clit with his thumb, making me gasp. “This what you need, baby? Me buried inside you, taking all that anger and turning it into moans?”
