Beaten (Broken #1) by Rebekah Rue

Author:Rebekah Rue [Rue, Rebekah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rebekah Rue
Published: 2015-11-21T05:00:00+00:00

Slowly people start to show up. I can’t help my body’s natural reaction every time the doorbell rings. Still no Lo. She should have been here by now. With relief, twenty minutes later a message comes through from Maggie saying that they had a hiccup and would be here shortly. I need a shot, anything to chill my nerves. I fill the tiny glass up and down the hatch the fire liquid goes. Just as I slam down the second shot, two tiny hands slide over my eyes and I can’t help the massive smile that spreads. “It’s about damn time you got here, woman!” I exclaim, grabbing her wrists and twisting around, only to be met with brown eyes. Vicky, fuck!

“I missed you too, baby. Where’s your little pet? I don’t see her trailing behind you on her leash.”

“Don’t be a bitch, Vicky. If you’re going to try to fuck shit up, you can leave or you can stay and enjoy yourself, but you will leave Lo alone. You got me? If I even see you looking at her funny, I’ll tell Shane you’re the reason why he developed that nasty discharge last summer.”

Her facial reaction resembles a blowup doll’s. “Ah, that’s just wrong. I’m clean.”

“Yeah, well, one slipup and you’ll magically have gonorrhea. Got it? Stay the fuck away from her.”

“I don’t know why I even liked you.”

“That’s your mistake.” Vicky has my motherfucking blood pumping, and I’m already pacing like a caged tiger.

Just then I feel the vibrations of a deep rumble across the floors and push past Vicky into the garage. The best-looking set of legs steps out of my Mustang, and I can’t seem to let go of the door frame since it’s holding me up. My palms itch anxiously to hold her, and my soul begins to calm at her sight. She casually re-adjusts her sleek deep-blue strappy dress. I don’t know what they call them; all I know is God created them to torture me.

Without glimpsing in my direction, she strolls to the trunk and fishes out a cinch bag, hopefully filled with a change of overnight clothes, or not, it doesn’t matter. When the trunk closes, that’s when our eyes met, connecting our souls for a magical minute. The prettiest blush appears on her cheeks, and I watch as her eyes wander down my bare chest, her pupils dilating.

She likes what she sees. Good! Standing in front, she stretches up onto her tippy toes and wraps her arms around my neck. Ah, perfect, I can’t stop myself from taking her in deeper, lifting her up off the ground, intensifying her sweet scent. “Happy birthday,” her beautiful voice sings, as she beams up at me, her face inches from mine. How easy it would be to transfer all her pink gloss onto my lips. Believe me I really think about it, but showing her respect and how vital she is to me seems more important.

“I’m sorry we’re late. Diddy struck again. I swear that cat has it out for me.

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