Hidden (Broken Man Book 1) Read online

  “Same thing. But make mine a chocolate milkshake.”

  She writes down the order and winks. “Nice and easy.”

  When she walks off, Chris leans in. “What was that?”

  “The waitress practically drooling over you? You think you’d be used to that by now.”

  He waves her off. “Not the waitress. Your order. You never order a cheeseburger. It’s always, vegan this or gluten free that or…I don’t know. Something without sugar.”

  I sigh. “I’m in a transition phase.”

  “Transitioning from healthy food to junk food?” He flashes me a grin. “I can get on board with that. Their pie here is to die for.”

  “Not junk food. Transitioning to…I don’t know. Going for what I want instead of playing it safe. Or at least, I’m trying.”

  His face grows serious. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. It’s boring work stuff that you don’t want to hear. Tell me about the moth.”

  He frowns. “Tell me about the job.”

  “I asked first.”

  His eyes grow amused. “You know, that doesn’t really work with grown-ups. And, as you recall, I am older than you.”

  “By three months,” I argue. “And my birthday is next month, so I’ll be the same age as you.”

  “Twenty-three. Wow, you’re getting old.” He smirks. “So…you’re having a mid-life crisis or something?”

  “Or something. Not as serious as a crisis.” Though it feels like that sometimes. Chris is right. I am a grown-up, and I certainly don’t want to spend my entire life working as a secretary for some business I care nothing about.

  I want to write. I want to tell stories. But I’m pretty sure that’s not going to pay my bills right now. Or get me out of my parents’ basement—though they hardly notice I’m there anymore.

  “You look tired,” Chris says. “And sad.”

  “I’m not.” I am.

  He reaches out again, taking my hand in his. “Tell me you’re still writing.”

  “I’m…” It’s hard to say this with his warm, strong fingers around mine. “I’m trying. I wish I could just take some time off from work and focus. Get away from that place.”

  He angles his head, considering this. “You should.”

  “And do what? Sit in the basement and write? Become a recluse? I’m not sure that’s me. I’d die of boredom and still not get my novel finished.”

  “Then get out, go somewhere. Live a little.”

  “I have no money. Where would I go?”

  Chris squeezes my hand and smiles. “Come with me.”

  I pull my hand from his. “What?”

  “I’m serious. We always joke about it. Let’s do it. Grab some clothes and your computer and road trip with me.”

  “But—but—you have to work.”

  “So? I’ll get it okay’d easy enough and you can get out. See some boring highway with me. Maybe find your own giant man-eating moth, and maybe even get some words down. And if that doesn’t give you a new perspective, then I don’t think I can help you.”

  “But…” I’m shocked he brought it up. Shocked even more by how bad I want to do this. “Won’t I be bothering you?”

  “No. You’ll be keeping me company, which will be a nice change. It’s gets lonely sometimes and I…” Chris takes a breath and leans in. “I think about you, Jen. I think about you a lot.”

  I swallow, knowing this is my chance. It’s my chance to tell him how I feel. To take that leap. “I think about you, too. It’s hard waiting for you to come back each time.”

  “Then don’t wait.” He takes my hand again. “Come with me.”

  A whirlwind of emotions travel through me, but in one quick breath, I say, “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  <<<>>>

  Chapter 2

  I don’t let myself second-guess my choice to head out of town with Chris until after I get into the cab of his truck and we’re 90 miles away from home. Nothing I can do now, so I might as well move forward, right? This is supposed to be an adventure, and if I don’t do it now, when will I ever have the chance again?

  “You’re not doing any writing,” Chris says.

  “I’m plotting.”

  “Sounds ominous.”

  His hands are loose on the steering wheel, his outfit casual, and eyes locked on the road. But then he grins and I see his dimple and die a little in my seat. “I see you looking at me.”

  “Like I said, I’m plotting.”

  He glances over. “Is this a romance novel?”

  My stomach clutches. I squeeze my legs together. “Maybe.”

  “Are you modeling the hero after me? Because I could handle that. Make me super cut and sexy.”

  “You are sexy,” I murmur under my breath.

  He straightens in the seat. Oh, shit. He heard me. Damn it. I shouldn’t have said anything. Way to go, Jen. Make this whole trip awkward in the first few hours.

  “Why did you agree to come on this trip?” Chris asks softly.

  My throat dries. Because I’m desperately in love with you. Because I need this. Because I want to be with you.

  “A lot of reasons,” I say.

  “I was hoping one of those reasons was the same as mine.”

  “Which reason is that?”

  “Damn it,” Chris says, sending me an irritated glance. “I can’t do this on the road.”

  “Do what?”

  He squeezes his hands on the wheel while I silently curse myself. He’s found someone else and he’s trying to tell me about her. Or he just realized he shouldn’t have invited me along because it’s too awkward. A million other reasons pop into my head, but none of them are good.

  Chris clearly doesn’t feel the same way as me.

  “There’s a stop in five miles. We can pull over there.”

  “If you want me to go back, I can. This is…” My voice trails off. I don’t know what to say.

  “Go back?” Chris glances at me, and I’m relieved to see his dimple appear again. “I don’t want you to go back. I just want to be able to see you when I say this.”

  I squirm in my seat. His jaw clenches, and I swear it’s not irritation there this time. It’s heat, plain and simple.

  Oh, my God. Have I been wrong this whole time? Does he feel like I do?

  Chris reaches out, his hand touching my knee. His fingers are like fire through my jeans. “You look nervous.”

  “I am.”

  “Don’t be. I think we’re both on the same page here. At least, I hope so.”

  He exits the highway at the truck stop. Instead of turning to me in the seat, he gets out and comes to my side to open the door.

  I climb down, using his hand as support, and then lean against the side of the truck. We’re off to a secluded corner of the rest stop, but I feel like all eyes are on me. Of course, that’s always how Chris makes me feel.

  He props his hand above my shoulder, leaning in enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes. “I think we’ve been putting this off too long.”

  “Putting what off?” I breathe, because I’m terrified of believing something that’s false. I need to hear him say it.

  “This.” He dips his head, lowers his mouth so his lips brush my ear. “Us.”

  I shiver rains down my spine and I lift my chin so my eyes lock with his. So we’re a breath away from kissing.

  His composure breaks and he swoops in, capturing my mouth at the same time he presses my body against the side of the truck. It’s hot on my back, but the heat is just another fuel for the fire that’s exploded inside of me.

  I grip his shirt in the back, my hands clenching into fists, and my body reels with sensation. His fingers squeeze my waist, digging into my hips, as if he can’t control himself. His tongue ravishes my mouth, massaging mine before plunging deeper and deeper.

  I can feel his cock pressing hard against my hip.

  “Chris,” I gasp.

  He exhales, looking like it takes a
ll of his control to stop kissing me. He keeps his hands firmly locked on my waist, but lowers his forehead to mine. “Damn it. Sorry.”

  “Why are you apologizing?”

  “Because I’ve been waiting to do that for years and I can’t—I can’t seem to stop. To take it slow.”

  The last thing I want is for him to take it slow. But we’re standing against his truck at a rest stop, where dozens of people can see, and he’s technically on the job.

  God, I want him. So bad my knees are shaking.

  “This is terrible,” he says, making me glance up sharply. He laughs, breath tickling my cheek. “Not this. Us. I mean the timing. I was hoping to be able to wait until tonight when we weren’t in the truck. Or at a rest stop.”

  He glances around, then takes my hand. “We have to get going. I’ll explain as we drive.”

  He helps me back into the truck, and I push my backpack to the side by my feet. The last thing I’m thinking about right now is writing. Well, maybe one of those romances Chris was talking about. With him in the starring role. Anything to let off some of the pent-up sexual tension running through my body right now.

  Inside, Chris starts the truck again, but doesn’t say a word until we’re back on the highway. There’s a love ‘em and leave ‘em country song on the radio that makes me surprisingly nostalgic.

  “Remember that summer after high school when we all snuck off to that lake behind Derek’s house?”

  He glanced over, eyes lit with memory. “I remember. And I remember you were too much of a chicken to skinny dip like the rest of us.”

  I stick out my tongue at him, knowing that was the biggest thing he’d remember. I had been too much of a chicken. But I hadn’t been too afraid to watch them all from the shore. To see Chris’s toned body streaking in the moonlight and experience of moment of longing so intense, I couldn’t stop thinking about that night for the next several months.

  That was the night I really fell in love with Chris. Where it went from a friendship to something more.

  “But damn…” He glances over again. “I really wanted to see you in your underwear. Or out of it.”

  A shot of straight desire goes through my body. Makes my clit throb. How can he sit there and talk like that without getting completely turned on?

  Feeling bold, I reach out and set my hand on his thigh. “I wanted that, too.”

  “Jen,” he says, warning in his voice. “You’re distracting me.”

  “I’m trying not to.” I move my hand further up his thigh. “But it’s so…hard.”

  “Fuck. Jen. Why didn’t you tell me this is how you felt before?”

  “I didn’t want to fuck it up, what we have. I look forward to seeing you every time you come back. If I didn’t have that anymore…it just wouldn’t feel right.”

  “I know what you mean.” He sets his hand on mine briefly. “But I feel like we missed out on a lot.”

  I nod. “Me too.”

  “Let’s make up for it,” he suggests.

  “Right now?”

  He laughs. “I wish. I have to work. But tonight…it’ll just be you and me.”

  <<<>>>

  Chapter 3

  A fter a long day on the road, most of it spent imagining Chris’s body on mine—in mine—we stop for the night and find a local bar.

  The music is loud, the drinks are cheap, and Chris’s hands are all over me. He leads me to a booth in the back corner, recently vacated by a group of bikers, and slides in behind me. He sits so close, his entire thigh is pressed against mine. It’s crazy that I want him even closer. Probably even crazier that I wish we were back in the cab of his truck in the dark, our hands all over each other, breaths mixed as he drives his cock into me.

  “I figured we’d better eat something first,” Chris says.

  “Does that mean you’re nervous?” I joke.

  Chris leans in and nips my ear. “Only that this won’t be everything you’re expecting. And more.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  He grips my chin and turns my face to his before he licks my bottom lip. “Dinner can wait—if you want. When you were in the bathroom, I checked in at the motel next door. Just for tonight.”

  Heat races through me. God, this is really happening. I press my thighs together to stop the ache that’s blooming there.

  “You want me,” he murmurs, one of his hands dropping to my thigh.

  “So bad.”

  He grips my hand. “We can go.”

  “Let’s wait. Get a few drinks. Build up to it.”

  “Ah.” He touches my cheek. “You are nervous.”

  Instead of joking about it, I nod. “Because I want this to be what you’re expecting, too.”

  “It will be. More than that, as long as I’m with you.”

  It only takes two drinks and Chris’s breath on my ear, his hand on my thigh or around my waist for me, to lose it. “We need to go to the motel now.”

  He doesn’t argue, just drops some bills on the table and slides out. Then he grabs my hand and tugs me to the exit. Outside the door, he whirls me around so my back is up against the building. My breath whooshes out with the motion, and before I can catch it, his mouth is on mine.

  “God,” he hisses, hands roaming, “I need you.”

  My knees wobble. I can barely stand knowing how badly he wants me, and what’s coming soon. “The room.”

  He barely pulls his mouth from mine, but he manages to take my hand and pull me along, making me stumble here and there when he leans in to kiss me again. Chris wraps his arm around my waist, keeping me steady, and guides me to the room.

  I laugh when he digs in his pocket for the keys and can’t manage to pull them out. “Damn it.”

  “Chris,” I pant.

  “I’m trying.”

  I step up behind him and wrap my arms around him, sliding my hands under his shirt. His abs are hard as a rock, amazingly toned considering he spends most of his days sitting down in a truck.

  He groans when I slide my hands lower, and shoves the key in the lock. The door comes open. Chris turns and grabs me around the waist to yank me inside. He kicks the door closed with his foot, still keeping his arms around me.

  It’s dark and cool in the room, the bed beckoning. But Chris has different plans.

  He skims his lips down my jaw and to my collarbone, murmuring words so quietly I can’t make them out. I lift my chin to give him better access to my neck, letting out a soft groan.

  “I’ve been waiting so long for this,” Chris murmurs.

  “Me too.”

  “I need to see you.” He steps back, and though it’s dim in here, I can see the hunger in his eyes.

  “I’m nervous.”

  He smiles. “You’ve already seen me naked.”

  I know. And he was a fine specimen. That doesn’t make me feel better.

  “You’re beautiful, Jen,” he says.

  When I still hesitate, he reaches for my shirt and pulls it over my head. His breath hisses out when he sees what’s underneath. A lacy red bra that matches my panties. I’m thinking he’ll appreciate those, too.

  After another moment, he undoes the button on my jeans and I let them slide to the floor.

  “Fuck.” His eyes are locked on my body. “Why didn’t you skinny dip with us again?”

  “Too nervous.”

  He steps back up to me, his fully clothed body against mine. I can feel his erection through his jeans, hard and ready. “Don’t be nervous now.”

  I exhale, trying to relax. When he starts kissing me again, I’m able to let it all go and enjoy the feeling. I lift on my toes to get even closer, shoving my tongue in his mouth and fumbling with his jeans.

  “I need to feel you against me,” I whisper. “On me. In me.”

  Chris growls. “No more waiting.”

  He walks me back to the bed, and then undoes my bra. “You’re killing me, Jen.”

  My belly quivers with longing. Damn, he knows all the right thi
ngs to say. Why didn’t we do this before? How come I just let it all be a fantasy when it could have been real?

  Once he takes off my panties, he moves quick, removing his own clothes and tossing them aside.

  He’s hard as a rock, cock curved up to his abdomen. Bigger than I remembered. But then, I had been farther away. Now I was right here, up close, and wanting my hands all over him.

  I wrap my arms around his neck, mashing my body against his to feel every curve, to feel his dick pressing hard into my stomach. I squeeze his hair tight, holding his mouth to mine, loving the groan that slips from his lips. Loving when his composure breaks.

  He tosses me back on the bed and crawls over the top of me. “You’re making it hard to wait.”

  “I want you in me so bad.”

  “Not yet.”

  Then he’s kissing me again, his mouth trailing down my shoulder and over to one breast. He takes the nipple in his mouth, working his tongue in circles and driving me crazy. My body writhes underneath his with this simple but exquisite kind of torture.

  I run my hands down his side and then fist his cock. It’s so big, I can barely get my hand around it. His body jerks at the contact, and a drop of pre-cum slides down his shaft, coating my hand. I start to run my hand up and down, but he grunts and shakes his head.

  “You first,” Chris says.

  He grips my wrists and pins my hands to my sides while he kisses further and further down my body until his lips reach my center. I’m already on fire for him, and when his tongue slides along my slit, flames lick up my thighs.

  My hands flex against the comforter, but Chris won’t release me.

  “I want to fuck your pussy with my tongue,” he says.

  My back arches as he makes good on his word. He slides his tongue in my wet entrance, and when he can’t seem to go deep enough, he releases my wrists to use his hands too. He swirls one finger around my clit, and uses his other fingers to hold my folds open so he can tongue me deep inside.

  “Oh, God—Chris—”

  I suck in a breath just before my body is hit with pleasure. My legs tighten up, and Chris just keeps shoving his tongue inside of me over and over again, teasing my clit and making me go crazy.