Broken (Manhattan Ruthless Book 1)
Chapter 49

I pad along the hallway, fresh from my shower and planning to grab some snacks and watch TV in my room—which has pretty much been my evening routine for the past three weeks—when I hear a knock on the door. I’m not expecting anyone. Tyler stayed out last night with some guy he met at a New Year’s party, and he already told me he won’t be back until tomorrow. I pull my bathrobe tighter around myself as I head to check it out, wishing I’d put on my pajamas. I hope it’s not my asshole brother. Although he’s stayed out of my way since our encounter over two weeks ago.

I check the peephole, and my heart stops beating. Without thinking about why he might be here, I wrench open the door. “Nathan?” I manage to gasp, even with my heart caught in my throat.

He tips his chin at me. A light dusting of stubble covers his square jaw, and although it seems impossible, he looks more handsome than ever. Clearly our breakup isn’t affecting him at all. “Can I come in?” he asks.

I step back, opening the door wider. “Sure.”

He steps inside, and his masculine scent invades the space around me, bringing up a whole host of memories. I swallow down the regret that balls in my throat while he closes the door behind him. The soft click of the lock sends goosebumps prickling along my forearms. Being alone with him isn’t good for my health.

Nathan’s deep voice cuts through the silence. “Is Tyler home?” He looks past me, a frown furrowing his brow.

I fidget with the tie on my bathrobe. “No. He’s out.”

He continues to look past me, avoiding my gaze.

What is he doing here? “Did you want something, Nathan?”

His dark eyes finally burn into mine. He sweeps the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, and my heart rate spikes. Without another word, he takes a few steps closer, and I feel the heat of his body in every cell of mine.

“Mel.” My name is a pain-filled groan from his lips, and it feels like my throat is closing up. I can’t do this.

Before I can take my next breath, he closes the remaining distance between us, and I replace myself sandwiched between him and the wall. The solidness of his hard chest against mine and his breath dusting over my forehead cause a shiver to run the entire length of my spine. With his eyes boring into mine, he strokes a hand over my hipbone and along my ribcage, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

My lips part on a gasp. I should tell him to stop, but I can’t. Instead, I wrap an arm around his neck, tugging him closer. He kisses me. It’s all-consuming fire and passion, and I’m powerless to stop him. Powerless to stop my heart from aching at the way his solid warmth envelops me and the memories of what we had. What we lost. Because he is everything.

I curl my fingers in his hair, and he groans into my mouth, pressing his hard length against my stomach. Heat floods my core. His kiss grows more fervent, his tongue lashing against mine as he takes what he wants from me. And I take just as much. I slip my free hand inside his jacket, skating it over the soft cotton shirt that covers his toned abs.

Breaking the kiss, he pulls back to stare into my eyes.

I blink, panting for breath. “Nate.”

His hands slide to my hips, down my thighs, and before I can take another breath, he’s yanking up my robe, exposing my panties. He runs his nose over my jawline while his hands move higher, dangerously close to where I need him most. “Say that again.”

“Nate,” I moan.

Using one hand, he frees his belt from its buckle and unfastens his zipper. “This whole goddamn building is gonna know my name by the time I’m done with you.”

My breath stalls in my lungs, and white-hot anticipation spikes through my core. My fingers join his, fumbling with his pants. I reach inside his boxers and wrap my hand around the base of his shaft, and when I squeeze, he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. His eyes roll back in his head, and his fingers dig into the delicate lace of my panties. The sound of tearing fabric makes me shiver with excitement.

After smacking my hands out of the way, he lifts me, his eyes still boring into mine as he wraps my legs around his waist and presses the crown of his cock at my entrance. My heart drums a wild rhythm, and aching need throbs between my thighs. I wrap my arms around his neck.

We shouldn’t do this. I can’t survive losing him again.

His mouth crashes against mine, possessive and dominant, and he drives inside me in one hard stroke. Pleasure laced with a hint of pain surges through my body, and I cling to him for dear life as he pulls out only to drive inside me even harder. Palming the back of my neck, he holds me possessively while his body crushes mine to the wall. His other hand roams freely, grabbing and squeezing the parts of me he can reach. He fucks me with brutal strokes, and it feels like a punishment, but I don’t care. I want it—no, I need it.

“Holy shit!” Hot pleasure curls in my core, snaking through my limbs and weaving its way through every cell in my body. It’s been too long since I’ve felt like this. Too long since my body has found the kind of euphoria that only he can bring me.

“You always took my cock so well, corazón,” he whispers, his hot mouth pressed to my ear. His hand slides between us, and he pinches my clit, squeezing and rubbing while he goes on rutting into me like a feral beast. And I take it all, desperate for everything he can give me. Desperate for any crumb of affection or contact he offers, because I’ve been starved of him for far too long. And when my orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, he fucks me through it, burying his face in the crook of my neck and muttering Spanish curses. His hips still a few seconds later, and I know he’s found his own release. I’m already anticipating the loss of him, and a whimper breaks free.

He slides his dick out of me and tucks himself back in his pants while I straighten my robe. He doesn’t look me in the eye as he reaches inside his jacket and produces a folded envelope from the pocket. I swallow, tears welling in my eyes. Please don’t.

He steps back, still avoiding my gaze, and hands me the brown envelope. “I want a divorce, Mel.”

My fingers don’t even feel like my own as they grasp the paper in a trembling grip. My lip quivers, and my throat closes over with the effort of holding back the sob that wants to pour out of me. But I won’t give him the satisfaction.

He turns on his heel and walks out of the apartment, and only after the door closes behind him do I allow myself to feel the pain of what he just did. My knees buckle, and I sink to the floor, my back sliding down the cool plaster with a swish. Tears pour down my face, and my fractured heart disintegrates entirely, the pieces so fragile they would drift away on the slightest breeze.

I had the most perfect man in the world for me, and I let him slip through my hands. Now I’m left with only the soul-crushing pain of knowing that there’s no chance of a future for us. Not after what he just did. He snuffed out the tiny flicker of hope that continued to burn, despite all the odds. And that’s the cruelest cut of all.