Chapter Two of Made to Break

It only felt right to give you a sneak peek into Avalon’s character as well! Especially since we haven’t officially met her, so her whole backstory is completely unknown. This second chapter gives you a little bit of insight into Avalon’s character, and might even make you realize you’ve known her longer than you realize.

I hope you enjoy the second chapter of Made to Break and that these first two chapters make you excited for what’s to come once Made to Break is officially out on Monday November 18th! We are just 3 days away… this all feels so surreal!

Happy reading, you beautiful souls!

Chapter Two

Avalon

My head is being smashed into the backboard of my bed repeatedly.

I guess you can’t always get lucky with the men you pick to sleep with. We’ve been at this for forty-five minutes, and I don’t know if I’ve felt an ounce of pleasure. If anything, all I’ve gotten is a headache. But I guess having him inside of me is better than him going down on me. That horrendous act lasted ten minutes and got me nowhere close to an orgasm. It just let to my first faked one of the night.

I’m pretty sure I feel a second one coming.

If I don’t fake an orgasm soon, there’ll be a hole in the backboard that’s the shape of my head.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he whispers against my ear, and the heat from his mouth sends shivers down my body… that’s the most he’s made me feel all night.

He pumps into me again, but this time, I’m prepared and grip the top of the headboard to stop myself from ramming into it. It’s not a comfortable position, but it’s better than the concussion I’m only a few blows away from.

His hands dig into my hips, definitely leaving marks, as he picks up his pace and pumps into me quicker and quicker, and as I feel his muscles clench, signaling his upcoming release, I orgasm for the second time… well, at least according to him.

His sweaty body falls limp against mine, his mouth leaving wet kisses along my chest before he pulls himself out of me.

He drops the condom in the nearby trashcan as I pull on my underwear and a long, baggy t-shirt. Then I grab his clothes and toss them to him.

“Not gonna invite me to stay the night?” he wonders, and I roll my eyes.

I’m not one for sleepovers. I’m a one-and-done kind of girl. Commitment just really isn’t my thing. I learned the hard way that it doesn’t promise you anything. Someone can say for better or worse, but when things get hard, they’re gone.

Now, would I have let him stay a little longer if there was a chance of me having a few more orgasms before bed? Yes, I would’ve. But I should’ve known he was all talk and no game when I met him.

That’s on me for thinking that a Rockford football player would live up to the hype. I’ve never been one for sports, nor did I track him down because he was a football player; he was just where I needed him when I needed him.

“We already talked about this…” Fuck. I don’t remember his name. That’s gotta be a real blow to the ego. A girl you met a few hours ago can’t even remember your name even though thousands of people chant it from the stands of football stadiums.

“Daniel.”

“Right.” I smile. “Daniel. I already told you at the bar I don’t do attachments, and staying the night feels like an attachment.”

Plus, I don’t need any guy I bring home to meet my mom. She typically doesn’t stumble in until pretty late, usually high out of her mind, or with enough alcohol in her system to cause three grown men to blackout, and I don’t need anyone witnessing that. Even a one-night stand.

He pulls on his pants, his eyes still on me.

“Think of how much more fun we could have if I stay over.” I try not to cringe at the idea. “I’d leave first thing in the morning. No strings after that.”

“That’s what they all say, but then they’re asking for your number or tracking you down on campus, and suddenly they won’t leave you alone.”

“I’m not the type.”

I walk to my bedroom door and open it, signaling for him to get out.

“Good, we’ve settled that this isn’t going anywhere. So, you can, you know, head out.”

“You know, a ton of girls would kill to have me in their bed.”

I don’t know if that’d be the case once he was actually in it, but I refrain from sharing that knowledge with him.

“Alright then. Go find one of them.”

I motion out the door again; this time, he seems to get the message. He pulls his shirt over his head and follows me to the front door.

“Are you su—”

“I’m pretty sure.”

He stares at me once he gets outside, like maybe I’ll change my mind. Once he realizes it won’t happen, his demeanor changes as he heads to his car in the parking lot. Like he’s angry, he only got four orgasms out of the night. That’s right, I counted… four. And I didn’t even fucking get one.

I slam the front door and head toward the fridge. I was so distracted with getting laid that I forgot my cardinal rule when it came to sleeping with someone I met at the bar—

Make them buy you food first.

Who would’ve thought that faking orgasms would be more exhausting than actually having one?

But surprise, surprise, there’s not a single thing in the fridge to eat. Just a ton of booze and food that’s been sitting in the refrigerator so long, I’m surprised it hasn’t mutated.

I grab my phone off the charger in the kitchen and open Uber Eats because there’s no way I’m getting through this OCHEM homework without any fuel.

But while I wait, I can give myself something I haven’t gotten all night— an orgasm.

***

School is my favorite place to be. It’s the only place to escape my home life. And if this year goes according to plan, I’ll be out of that ratty apartment in a year and a half.

Hopefully, when I leave for med school, if I get in, it’ll be a fresh start. Just like my dad, I’ll leave and never look back.

“Before class starts, can everyone please hand your assignments to the front of the room?” Mrs. Lewis, our Organic Chemistry professor, says, sitting on her desk.

OCHEM’s in a small room, and there aren’t many of us, only about twenty, and that’s if everyone shows up. But like most of my classes, I’m the youngest in the room. The class is mainly sophomores, with a few juniors who didn’t take OCHEM II their sophomore year.

“While you guys pass your assignments forward, I want to remind you all that next Wednesday, we have our first exam of the year,” she continues. “Now, I know what you’re all thinking; we’re only three weeks into the semester, so how are we already preparing for an exam? All that I can say is that this class moves quickly.”

There’s a collective set of groans as there’s a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see Jaxon Holmes with a stack full of assignments. His typically pale ivory skin is more Sunkissed than when we started classes a few weeks ago. Probably from his runs around campus, which I’ve seen him on a couple of times. Sometimes, he’s with other guys, but most times, he’s with a girl. The same girl.

He smiles as I grab the stack of assignments and lean over my desk to set them on the empty one in front of me.

I don’t know much about Jaxon Holmes. Actually, I don’t know anything about him aside from the fact that he’s a biology major and on the hockey team. I only know this because Mrs. Lewis made us introduce ourselves during the first week of classes.

This would make Jaxon Holmes the only hockey player I know on our team and one of two athletes I know on campus.

“Also, remember that your lab and lecture grades are collective. You must pass both to pass OCHEM; I know it’s early in the semester, but it’ll only get harder from here.”

She grabs the stack of assignments off the desk in front of me before setting them on her desk.

“Now, let’s get to our real lecture of the day.” She pops the cap off an Expo marker. “Reagents.”