Bad Boy Dom (18 page)

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Authors: Ellen Harper

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Chapter
Twenty-Two

 

Domenic

 

Mom and Archie couldn’t tell me where Michelle was. I tried to ask at first in a way that wouldn’t suggest how I really felt, but Archie kept giving me strange looks. For whatever reason, I think he’s started to suspect something. Mom has no idea, of course, but I don’t want to give her any reason to suspect.

 

“She’s in California, Dom, like I told you,” Archie had repeated for the millionth time over dinner. “I’m not sure why she isn’t responding to you, but she probably doesn’t have the cell phone service out there.”

 

“Honey, there’s cell service everywhere now,” Mom said, patting Archie on the back of his hand. “I’m sure she knows.”

 

“Thanks, Mom,” I muttered sarcastically. Mom beamed at me, not getting the hint.

 

“But where in California?” I persisted. “Don’t you have the airline that she charged your card with? Can’t you figure out where she went?”

 

“Domenic,” Archie said in a stern voice. “Look, Michelle’s a really private gal. You know that, you’ve always known that. If she left, I’m guessing it’s because she really wants to be away from you right now.”

 

“Archie!” Mom snapped, leaning in and giving me a pitiful look. To me, she said, “He doesn’t mean that!”

 

“I just want to know where she went,” I said, holding up my palms. “I just really need to talk about something with her.”

 

Archie looked at me long and hard. “It’ll have to wait,” he said finally. “She’s not coming home any time soon if I know anything about her.”

 

“But it’s been a month!” I protested, leaning forward. I made a fist and slammed it on the table out of anger. “She hasn’t come home in a month!”

 

“Domenic, if you want to stay in this house with your mother and me, you’ll need to respect my boundaries and my rules. Michelle is my daughter, and if she hasn’t contacted you, I don’t think she wants to. Please leave her alone.” Archie got up from the table, making the plates and glasses clink. “Excuse me,” he said to my mom.

 

“Archie, wait!” Mom called, getting up and chasing after him. She shot me an apologetic look and mouthed “I’m sorry” before going off to calm her husband down.

 

I rolled my eyes and got up from the table. I couldn’t believe Mom was being that stupid, and I was a little shocked at myself for badgering him like I had. I knew that Michelle didn’t want to talk to me. But I also hated knowing that it was my fault, and it was easier to pretend with others like I’d had nothing to do with it. I thought of her and as usual, her gorgeous face floated across my mind. I could see her cute little nose covered in freckles.

 

Thinking of Michelle always led me to really naughty thoughts after a minute or two, and since it had been a few weeks since I’d last gotten laid, today was no exception. I let my mind wander and pictured her stretched out, naked, on my bed with her legs spread. I saw that adorable little tuft of pubic hair that she kept in the front and her pale body covered with a bright flush. Michelle got embarrassed so easily and I loved seeing her blush naked. It would spread down from her cheeks on her delicate neck, then over her breasts and down her belly.

 

I could even see the flush in the skin on her inner thighs—if I happened to be in such a lovely situation at the time. Michelle had a great body, and I mentally caressed it with my hand, stroking the pads of my fingers down her torso and making her shudder. I loved her breasts; they weren’t huge, but they were pale and soft and very rounded. Her nipples were blush-pink and seemed to be always erect. Pinching and rolling them between my fingers to make Michelle squirm was one of my favorite hobbies, and guaranteed to always make her wet. And her pussy…God. I felt my cock stiffen between my legs as I thought of her sexy little slit. I loved the fact that she’d been with no one else but me. It made me feel this complete sense of ownership whenever we fucked, and I loved knowing that mine was the only cock that had been inside of her.

 

In my head, Michelle moaned my name and arched her back on the bed. Her stiff nipples rose in the air and I licked and sucked on them with all of my might, feeling her squirm hotly beneath me. I loved how delicate Michelle was, she always looked like she might snap in half if the right pressure was exerted. She was the perfect size for me to dominate her. In my mind, I straddled her neck and rubbed the head of my cock against her lips. As always, she opened her soft mouth and took the first few inches. Her mouth always felt so warm and wet, and I shuddered thinking of how many strokes of the tongue it would take to bring me to orgasm. Even though I’d spent years fantasizing about Michelle, she was even better in person. She was the perfect balance of shy and daring, and I loved that she let me get her hot enough to do some really nasty things. Thinking about what I’d done to her with my old paintbrushes was still enough to get me crazy hard.

 

Normally, my fantasies of Michelle would only last a few seconds before the guilt hammered its way into my head, sharp and resolute. But today was different. I couldn’t shake the image of her gorgeous nude body from my head. My cock chafed in my pants, rubbing uncomfortable against the fly. My mouth felt dry and I licked my lips, imagining they were the lips of Michelle’s labia. The thought of her smell and taste was enough to practically make me come in my pants, and I ran upstairs before Mom or Archie could come back in the kitchen and find their son turned into a lust-crazed werewolf.

 

In my sadly Michelle-less room, I flopped on the bed and closed my eyes. She came to me instantly, naked and willing. I tried to imagine the feel of her skin on mine as I thought about her sliding down on my cock. The first couple of times that we’d had sex, she looked so uncomfortable. I loved seeing how tightly her pussy gripped me, and the way she strained to make it more comfortable. My hand was a poor substitute.

 

After I came, I felt so guilty that I couldn’t believe what I’d done.
You sick fuck,
I thought.
You fucked her over and you’re still treating her like a plaything
. Wiping my hand on the bedspread, I yanked my pants on and stood up. I knew that Archie and Mom wouldn’t be of any more help with regards to where she was. I’d have to do a little detective work first.

 

Ironically, and at my insistence, Michelle had made a Facebook page right before she’d left. I hadn’t friended her, but I prayed that it was still up and active as I loaded the site. Michelle Tennen didn’t seem like that common of a name, but there were 46 search results. I squinted and slowly scrolled through all of the little portrait images, wondering which one was
my
Michelle.

 

I found her about halfway down the page. Her profile was totally private—what a surprise—but I could look at the main picture, friend request her, or send her a message. In my earlier days as a true Lothario, I would have just sent her a friend request with a winky face. But now I couldn’t do that; if she already wasn’t responding to my texts and calls, she probably wouldn’t think that was very cute behavior. Instead, I clicked on the ‘send message’ button and began to type.

 

Thirty minutes later, I still had nothing. I’d written and rewritten a message a dozen times, but each time, it still looked like the same old crap. With a sigh I went downstairs and grabbed a bottle of Archie’s bourbon. There wasn’t any mixer in the house so I grabbed a glass with some ice and made myself a big drink of bourbon on the rocks. The first swallow was painful but everything after that felt like coming home. I loved the way that alcohol warmed my stomach; it comforted me in a way that almost nothing else ever had.

 

With my drink in hand, I trooped back upstairs and sat at the computer. I still didn’t feel any inspiration, so I chugged until half of the glass was gone. After I swallowed, I felt really woozy and warm. My head was starting to pound, but I made myself look at the little picture of Michelle on my screen until it was a blur of pixels. It wasn’t a great photo of her. it looked old, but she still had a hint of the same smile that I loved about her. She was wearing a baggy t-shirt and jeans and there was no hint of her delectable body. I frowned as I tried to imagine her curves beneath the clothes, the way her breasts looked when they were pushing out of her…
Domenic!
I scolded myself.
This no time to be a pervert. I must woo her back
.

 

Swallowing the image of Michelle without a shirt, I lowered my hands to the keyboard and began to type:

 

Michelle,

 

I’m so sorry about everything. I don’t even know what you think happened, but I want to explain. I’m a complete wreck without you, and I need to see and talk to you as soon as possible. Please, Michelle, listen to me! I love you! I’d do anything I could to keep you happy and in my life, and if you’ll hear me out, I want to start on that as soon as possible.

 

Michelle, when you left it broke my heart. I know that it’s tough with Mom and Archie here, but it won’t always be like that. When you’re done with school—or even now! —we could get our own apartment. And no, we don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to. I have a feeling that Mom actually wouldn’t mind very much, but I know that your pops is a traditional man. I want to be around you all of the time. I never want to give you up. Please, Michelle, if you love me, you’ll understand.

 

Baby, when Mom and Archie got home it made me really depressed. I got to thinking that you couldn’t have really loved me the way you do, and it just made me so sad that I couldn’t bear it. When Mom talked about painting Archie, she just lit up with love and happiness. I know you saw it, too. Michelle, honey, that’s why I left. I couldn’t have anyone know that I love you the way I do, and I felt like if anyone saw the painting, that’s the first thing they’d realize. I realize now that feeling that way is wrong. Who cares if anyone knows, right? We love each other! Michelle, I’d shout it from the rooftops of the world if you’d only agree to give me another chance!

 

I stormed out because I was mad that I didn’t think I could have you and have everyone know that you’re mine. I stormed out and I was wrong, and I was pigheaded, and I need you to forgive me. Please, Michelle. I didn’t sleep with anyone. I haven’t slept with anyone but you since we made up. Michelle, I only want you! Don’t you realize that?

 

Michelle, baby, I know you’re in California! I’m going to go look for you if I don’t hear from you, okay? Just send me one word to let me know that you understand, and I’ll be right there! Hell, I could leave tonight if I could.

 

I sat back in the chair and took another drink of bourbon. I felt like my letter was a little histrionic, but I remembered Mom telling me that women loved grand gestures. And Michelle hadn’t had a lot of experience with guys. I hoped that she’d find it romantic. I hoped that it would make her swoon to read it. Draining all of my drink, I set the empty glass down with a loud thud. The sound made me laugh, and then I realized how drunk I was getting. Thinking about Michelle didn’t make me as horny as it had a few minutes ago. Now I just had this feeling that I wanted to cry for some reason.

 

Michelle, I’m going to sign off soon. But I found you because I love you, and I always will. No one can make you as happy as I can, Michelle. We’re meant to be together, and once you realize that, we can let our lives begin.

 

Feeling satisfied, I clicked ‘send.’ The message sent and I stared at the screen, imagining that Michelle was reading it right now. The thought was too much, and I closed my laptop with a thud before lying down on the bed and falling asleep.

Chapter
Twenty-Three

 

Eric

 

“Michelle!” I yelled, stamping my foot impatiently and waiting for Michelle to get her cute booty downstairs. “I need to go!”

 

She appeared at the banner, looking adorably disheveled. “Hi,” she said sleepily, grinning at me and using her hands to twist her light brown hair into a ponytail. “What time is it? Did I oversleep?”

 

I couldn’t believe how much greater she looked after moving to California. The sun had really sunk into her skin and given her this gorgeous light tan. Her brown hair had blonde highlights and she’d let it grow a bit longer. Instead of flat ironing it into submission, she wore it wavy, and that with her tan looked fabulous. “You’re fine, baby doll,” I assured her, giving her an air smooch. “But I need to borrow your lappy, okay? Mine is still in the shop.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Michelle said, rubbing her eyes after the recognition dawned on her face. “Sorry, I totally forgot.”

 

“Did you go out last night?” I eyed her. “You seem unusually exhausted but not grouchy this morning!”

 

“I studied with some people,” she said, blushing slightly. “Why, what do you care?”

 

“Were any of those guys named Damien?” I teased. A pink flush rose up Michelle’s neck and colored her face. “You look so pretty, just stop!” I said, waving a hand in the air. “Don’t tell me anything!”

 

Michelle grinned and handed me her laptop. The change in her personality really was evident, and I was so glad to see her feeling better. When I’d first met her, every thought was all about Domenic and how he’d ruined her life. But here in California, I knew that she felt much better. She wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, but it was great to see her trying.

 

“And Eric?” Michelle asked as she walked back upstairs. “Tonight we’re going out, okay?”

 

“Bravo!” I called back. “Of course we are, darling!”

 

Michelle’s laptop wasn’t password protected, and she still had a browser up with her email in it. I normally didn’t snoop—much—but I saw she had four emails with the same subject line: “New Facebook Message from Domenic Thomas.”

 

Quickly, I whipped around to make sure that Michelle wasn’t behind me, even though I’d left the house. I bit my lip, unsure of what to do. Since they were sent at 4:14 a.m., I didn’t think she’d seen them yet unless she checked her email on her phone.

 

I thought back to when I’d first met Michelle, about a month ago. She’d been sullen and quiet and sad-looking, like a puppy that you see in the shelter when all the other puppies had been adopted. I wanted to befriend her and see if I could do anything to make her happy; that’s just how freaking sad she actually looked! Michelle had turned out to be a great friend, and I loved living with her in California. But she’d changed so much, and it had all been for the better. When I first met her, she walked around with a scowl on her face. She actively avoided fun. She hadn’t even smoked pot for the first time until, like, two weeks ago! And while I hadn’t met him, I had a feeling that all of the bad stuff was because of Domenic. He sounded like such an abusive asshole. I couldn’t believe that she had fallen in love with someone like that. I couldn’t let him into her life again, not when she was starting to seem so happy. I knew it was wrong to lie to her, but Michelle had been so depressed that I didn’t think she’d ever start to feel better about Domenic. Besides, as her friend I had a duty to her happiness.

 

I opened Facebook in a new window and quickly deleted the ‘New Message’ notifications, as well as the actual messages. Then I deleted the email reminders and hoped that she hadn’t seen one on her phone. I felt icky and horrible about lying, but it was the only thing I could to do keep her safe. Maybe if he didn’t think that she’d respond, he’d stop trying and find some other woman to harass.

 

All day I panicked whenever my phone went off. I expected to hear from Michelle, demanding why she’d gotten an email about a Facebook message only to find no Facebook message. But she never texted, and I was a bundle of nerves by the time I went home.

 

Michelle was sitting at the dining room table in a long tunic top and cotton shorts, with her bare feet propped up on one of the other chairs. She looked up and me and grinned; I saw an open bottle of wine and some books next to her.

 

“Hey there,” I said cautiously, setting her laptop down on the table. “Thanks for that, I don’t need it again tomorrow.”

 

“You’re welcome!” Michelle beamed. Her hair was down and her skin was glowing. “Are you ready to go?”

 

“Where are we going?” I set my books down on the table and stretched.

 

“A club,” Michelle teased. “A gay club, but it’ll be fun.”

 

“Michelle, I don’t know,” I said. “It’s been a while since I dated.”

 

“Eric, it’s been, like, a week. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.” She stood up and stared at me. “It’ll be fun!”

 

“Okay,” I relented. “Lemme go change, and then we can go.”

 

***

 

Michelle

 

“Eric!” I called, searching for him in the sea of bodies. “I’m going to get another drink!” We made eye contact and he nodded, but I knew he hadn’t understood a word that I’d said. The club was pulsing. The floor was crowded and even the bar was jammed, I had to wedge my way into a group of guys just to make contact with the bartender. I couldn’t believe how much fun I was having. Ever since moving to California, my whole life felt different. I was sleeping better and eating better and making friends more easily than ever before. It was crazy to imagine how depressed I’d felt just a couple of weeks ago.

 

It had been a huge weight off my shoulders when I’d finally called home to tell Dad and Sandy that I wouldn’t be returning. My dad tried to talk me into transferring to a closer school, but I knew that he wouldn’t really want me to be unhappy. It had been a hard talk, but I was glad that I’d finally owned up to staying in California.

 

“Don’t you want to come home for the holidays?” Dad had asked. There had been a long pause on the phone.

 

“Dad,” I’d said, closing my eyes even though he couldn’t see me. “Med school is tough. I have a lot of work to do.”

 

He’d sighed and said that he understood. Sometimes I wondered how miserable I actually made my family. I wanted my dad to be happy, but I figured that with Sandy around, that was no longer my duty. And with Dom around…well, that would be impossible.

 

Being away from Domenic had been good for me. I still loved him, and thought about him all the time. But the pressure of being around him with no one finding out our true relationship had been stressful beyond words. I didn’t even know what I was doing anymore. Everything had just felt like one extended effort not to fight with him about the past. And what’s more, I hadn’t liked who I was when I’d been around him. Around Dom, I’d felt jealous and manipulative and weak. I’d felt captive by the love I’d felt for him. Now, I could see that I could love him without wanting to control every aspect of his life. It was a strange feeling, but one that I was trying to work through as time went on.

 

I refilled my drink at the bar and searched for Eric in the crowd. He was dancing with another guy, and they were pressed close together with their foreheads touching. I could make out that Eric was mouthing the lyrics of the song to the guy. They both looked so happy and naturally at ease with each other that I felt instantly jealous. Even though I’d met a few guys since moving, I didn’t think that I’d feel that comfortable with any of them, not even after talking for weeks. Eric was just so naturally radiant that men flocked to him, and he relished flirting with them all. I couldn’t handle the idea; it was too embarrassing to think about acting like that with someone I’d just met.

 

As I watched, Eric’s new friend spun him on the dance floor and then pulled him close for a kiss. I looked away; it felt too intimate, even though I was on the other side of the room. I didn’t think that Eric would have minded my watching, but it still made me uncomfortable. It felt like I was watching a private moment that I shouldn’t have been spying on.

 

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