Blind Side (17 page)

W
e’re old and grey
, our bond in love stronger than it ever were before. Our bones are brittle and our beauty long ago faded. The sun settles beneath the forest across the way, with the shadows of tall trees billowing across the road and onto the sloped hill. Side by side, we rock in chairs, enjoying the cool, end of summer breeze.

This farmhouse is stained with memories of the good times, and memories of the bad times. They serve as a constant reminder that love is eternal, even when it appears irrevocably broken.

At once, we were trapped by our dreams, an idealization of what our lives should have looked like. We were both dreamers, but somewhere along the way, we lost sight of who we were when we saw our dreams were dashed away like thunder in the night. We didn’t always do the right things, and when we did, it reeked of failure, as if somehow the truth was just as dangerous as freedom.

My world spiraled out of control that fateful night when metal tore through metal, and sliced open the wounds of my marriage. For the longest time, I blamed my husband for the events that unfolded that night, but with hindsight and wisdom, I’ve come to rest the blame on the shoulders of whom it belongs, the twisted sensibility of tragedy.

Tragedies are unavoidable in life, and they test us. They pull at our heartstrings, and rip the carpet from beneath us. I used to believe that only the strong could recover, and that left me reeling and sent me down a path where the love I had for myself was conditional.
He
showed me otherwise.

I think about Kemper all the time, and the way he made me feel, and the way it wasn’t really about him and I at all. He awoken something in me that long lied dormant. He saw me for who I was, and reached his strong hand into my heart and pulled it to the surface. At once, I was drowning in misery and pain. And he saved my soul in every way a soul could ever be saved.

The last time I saw him, we were standing in the pouring rain outside of a run-down motel. I never heard from him again, and sometimes, that leaves a burden on my soul. Looking back, again with hindsight and wisdom, I wish I could have told him what he meant to me. I mean, really, truly told him how he saved me. But I know he’s out there somewhere, and he’s happy, and he’s free, and he loves someone who deserves his love, in the same way he loved me. Without rules. Without limits. Without hesitation. Without condition.

I love Brock—yesterday, today, and tomorrow—because I loved Kemper.

I was his teacher, and he was my student.

But soon he became my teacher, and I became his student as he taught me how to love again.

To love myself.

To love him.

To love Brock.

To love because I can, and not because I should.

N
ow that you
’ve been
blindsided,
please enjoy the first five chapters of Bad Reputation, a sizzling hot student/teacher romance inspired by the same source material as the 1999 teen classic, Cruel Intentions.

O
n the verge
of college graduation, Apple Malloy finds herself entangled in one last game of manipulation, deceit, and sexual corruption with her ex-lover, and constant enabler, Brick Valmont. The bet? That she can seduce the professor who had failed her the semester prior before Brick can seduce the innocent daughter of a sitting U.S. Senator.

If Apple emerges victorious, Brick will be forced to admit she's better at these cruel games they play. If she loses, she must sleep with him one last time before graduation.

But when the tables are turned, and Apple finds herself falling for the man she’s supposed to destroy, all bets are off. And as the games quickly spiral out of control, one thing remains certain; nobody escapes unscathed in this titillating story of manipulation where nothing is as it appears.

Bad Reputation is the first book in the Bad Reputation series, and is loosely based on the 1782 classic novel, Dangerous Liaisons.

H
is fingers were interlaced
with mine, holding my hand above my head and against the cushion of a hotel pillow. His eyes bore into my own, reveling in taking what was his.

I was his, and it was beautiful. A little painful at first, but I knew that was to be expected. I thought to myself, about how I was lucky to be losing my virginity to someone who loved me. I loved him in return.

His name was Mason, and he was the guy that every girl in high school wanted, but he chose me. I spent years at that school pining after him, praying that someday he would give me more than a passing look. It was in the early morning, and before the first bell, when he first approached me in the hallway on some random Monday.

The letter jacket he wore around his broad shoulders was a status symbol of something unobtainable. That’s what I thought. But with a smile and the kindest of words, he asked me to the movies one Friday night.

Our relationship took off, much to the shock and confusion of everyone around us. He was the golden child and I had been branded as nothing more than trailer-trash since junior high. Falling in love wasn’t difficult. It was as easy as learning to play checkers after already conquering chess.

Two months later, he carried me into prom and gave me a night so magical that I imagined I had dreamt it. I wasn’t fairy tale material.

There we were, in that hotel room and the world had finally begun to make sense. With every slow, measured thrust of him inside me, I felt the connection grow stronger. I knew, without a shadow of doubt, that he loved me. I was complete for the first time in my life.

When we were finished, and he had climaxed inside the sheath of a condom, he rolled onto his back. We both lied there, watching as a ceiling fan spun in circles above us. I followed the blades of the fan with my eyes, only peeling my attention away when Mason reached down to pull the condom off his cock.

Even after having sex, it still felt odd and wrong to be in such close proximity to a cock. It had been inside of me, and a right of passage had been crossed. I became a woman in that hotel room—that’s what society said. Still, I knew it would take time to grasp the loss of innocence, and the beginning of something anew.

I clutched the sheets around my body and rolled out of bed, making a quick sprint to the bathroom. I needed a shower before I closed my eyes, cuddled in the arms of the boy I had grown to love.

I made it quick, cleansing my entire body in a mere few minutes. All I wanted was to fall asleep, because for the first time my reality was better than my dreams. I turned the water off and dressed in a hurry before pushing the door open.

The bed was empty, with the comforter thrown to the side and a white slip of paper lying in the center. Cautiously, I reached down, grabbed the paper and read it out loud.

B
rick taps
his long fingers along the steering wheel. Beneath the glow of passing streetlights, he almost looks innocent. What a fucking joke. That boy hasn’t been innocent since the first time his dick got hard. It’s been a downward spiral since he realized he could stick his dick wherever he wanted, with whomever he wanted.

Behind those fucking beautiful emerald eyes is a demon. He eats women for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You can’t help but feel sorry for the women who accidentally fall onto his plate during brunch.

He’s as magnetic as a lithium battery that floats a little too close to the sun. Everyone wants him. Many have him. Nobody comes out from a one-night stand with him unscathed. In the space of one night, he’ll capture your heart and then shred it in front of the entire world.

He’s tall, with the kind of modern ruggedness that women line up in droves just for a chance to touch. The tattoos that line his right arm to the crook of his elbow tell a thousand different stories—all of which are true—but the women who fall for him never stop to read the narrative. The tattoos above his elbow doesn’t really mean jack shit. It’s a tapestry made of an abstract collision of colorful shapes.

His hand fondles the knob of the shifter long before the gears are ready to turn. He thrives on being in control, always moving chess pieces in his mind. I can see the gears turning in his mind. There’s a smile that hitches patiently across his lips, drawing attention to the perfect slant of his shaven and masculine jawline.

It’s people like him that turned me into the woman I am today.

I’m a bitter bitch.

I’m a woman scorned.

I manipulate the shit out of men like Brick long before they realize they wield that kind of power. In many ways, Brick and I are the same person with different anatomies.

We use people.

We seduce people.

We destroy everything and everyone we touch. And we enjoy every second of it.

“If I recall correctly, your last stunt left you with a broken heart,” Brick says, jumpstarting a conversation I had tried to initiate just a few minutes prior.

“You do recall correctly.” I adjust in my seat, pushing my body so that it rests slightly against the door. I’m able to get a better view this way. “That won’t happen again.”

He takes a quick glance at me and his smile widens further, exposing the straightest set of teeth you’ll find in North Carolina. “You were in love with him.” He chews into his lip and shakes his head. “I knew it.”

“That was the first time, and like I said, the last.”

“He nearly destroyed you,” he says followed by a light laugh. This is the Brick I love—the same Brick I despise. He shifts the car into fifth gear as we merge onto the highway. The road around us is eerie with only a few other cars on the road. That’s to be expected at four in the morning.

“I remember,” I say dryly.

“Yeah?” His brow furrows and his eyes remain fixed on the road, but his hand trails to my leg. He palms my flesh, making his way past the hem of my jean shorts. “I had to fuck the pieces of your poor, shattered soul back together.”

“That also won’t happen again.” I reach down and grab his hand, squeezing it hard before pushing it away completely. There’s a popular saying that gets tossed around like a hot potato—the heart wants what the heart wants. Well, my pussy wants what my pussy wants, but I also have the power to say
no, pussy, no
. “I wasn’t expecting to fall in love with him. He was a shiny, sexy toy and everything escalated out of my control. I also wasn’t expecting him to creep off and fuck every other blonde bimbo on campus.”

“You ruined him,” Brick says with another laugh. “You stole his virginity and opened him up to the wonderful world of sex, drugs and rock and roll.”

“I like to think he was ruined long before I set my paws on him.”

“You mean your mouth, right?”

“I’m not going to deny that I give the best blowjobs on this side of the fucking Atlantic.” I shift my body toward his and dance my fingers along his thigh. “That’s probably what happened. I blew his fucking brains out with my mouth.” My hand finds his inner thigh and I begin to caress him.

He widens his hips in anticipation of what comes next. “You think highly of yourself.” I know him well enough to know that’s a challenge. He wants me to prove myself.

“Oh Baby,” I whisper against his ear. “Don’t act like I never made you scream.” I cup my hand around his dick, squeezing him through dark denim. He shifts backward against the seat, correcting his poor posture in the process. He rakes a finger across his nose and exhales sharply as his cock begins to throb.

“There was a time…”

I curl my fingers underneath him and press hard against his balls.

He gasps. “There was a time when I was living in such a dark place…”

I palm him through his jeans, getting a kick out of the way his mouth draws open with my every touch. “That dark place was you by the way, back then you could have made me scream.“

My hand traces along his hardening shaft. It curses and throbs, begging to be set free of its denim cage. I squeeze the head.

“God dammit,” Brick yelps.

“It sounds like I can still make you scream.”

He reaches down with his right hand, and scrambles to undo his silver-plated belt buckle. It’s a struggle for him and I can’t help but look on in amusement. I’ve got him where I want him—squirming. There’s nothing in the world he wants right now more than my mouth around his cock. There’s nothing I want in the world right now than to deny him that very same thing. Just because I said
no
to my own urges, doesn’t mean I can’t tease his.

Once his belt is undone, he steadies the wheel so that we’re driving in the straightest line possible. Once the course is set, he hooks the fingers on both his hands into his jeans and boxer-briefs and slides them down his hip.

His cock springs to life, taunting and tempting me in the darkness. My eyes remain fixed on the thickness and the only thing that stops me from going down on him right here are the sudden flashes of blue and red lights.

“Fuck,” he cries out and throws his hands back onto the wheel. We come to a slow crawl as we veer onto the shoulder. He hurries his hands to pull the jeans back up, but before he does, I reach over and give him a few strokes.

Guttural moans are thrown from his throat as the cop slams a door behind us. Brick grabs my wrist, a physical enforcement that I need to stop. I comply wish his wishes as the strong beam of a flashlight bounces across the rearview mirror.

He finally manages to pull his jeans back up around his ass, but his raging boner threatens to poke right on through. “You’re such a tease.”

“You’re the one that made me stop.”

“Hilarious.” He pushes his finger on a button above the door-handle and lowers the window as the officer approaches. “Speeding and swerving aren’t felonies, but I really don’t want to pay the ticket, and I really can’t afford any more points on my record.” He looks my way wearing the cutest pout I’ve ever seen on the face of a devil.

“I’m not going to blow him.” I know where the conversation is heading and I’m going to cut it short. “He’s not my type, anyway.”

“Fine.” He smacks his lips and drapes his arm along the frame of the door. “Maybe I will.”

“Please do.”

The officer places one hand on the hood of the car and leans down, shining the light of Jesus Christ upon us. To my amazement, he’s quite the looker and around the same age as my next target, the enigmatic Jensen Moon—more on him later. But I’m still not going to blow this cop to help Brick, of all fucking people, avoid a ticket. Instead, I’ll watch with ecstatic glee as he squirms in his seat.

My favorite pastime these days.

* * *

“
T
wo points to
go and I lose my license,” Brick says as he follows me into the house I share with an annoying roommate. “I can’t lose my license.”

“Yeah,” I mumble under my breath. “I couldn’t think of a worse fate.” From behind me, I feel the cool spring breeze blowing through the door. I turn to face Brick. “Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to close the damn door?”

He palms the knob and crushes his teeth against his bottom lip. “Is that an official invite to come in?”

“Are you a fucking vampire?” He doesn’t respond with words. Only a sly grin. “Close the door and creep to my bedroom. I don’t want to awake Lydia.”

Brick chuckles to himself and begins to close the door gently before slamming it. “Oops.”

I shake my head at him, half-annoyed, but fully prepared for what comes next. Nothing is as it appears as I hook my pointer finger and command him to follow me. He does as told, tugging a bleach-white tee over his head as I push my bedroom door open.

“It’s been forever since I’ve been in this room.” He shifts past me as I flip on the light switch and close the door behind me. He reaches for the zipper of his jeans and manages to unzip as he glides backward onto my queen-sized—how appropriate—bed. His long hands grip the width of the mattress as he kicks one crimson shoe off after the other.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” I warn him and place my earrings on a tall circular stand. “This won’t happen again.” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him stuffing his hand into his jeans, rubbing his own cock and trying to lure me into his trap.

“Come on, Apple,” he moans. “I’m horny as fuck.”

“I’m thinking.” I press one foot against the back heel of the other and slip out of three-inch heels. When I regain my bearing, I make a quick adjustment to my posture. I must remain in control even with my lower stature.

“You’re not still obsessing over that professor of yours, are you?” Brick leans back onto his elbows and stalks me with full eyes.

“We’re more alike than you care to admit.” I say with a shrug before turning and slipping out of my cocktail dress. I can feel his gaze burning a hole through me. “You can’t quit obsessing over me, so what’s the difference?”

“The difference is that I can have you.” Sheets scuffle as I hear his feet land against the cherry floors. Soon, his breath swims across the nape of my neck and his hands latch around my feminine biceps. “I’ve had you before and I’ll have you again.”

“What if I tell you I’m saving myself for him?”

“That would confuse me greatly.” His cock presses through the opening in his jeans and against my back, and his teeth nibble against my ear. It’s not my intention to do so, but I shift backward against him, craving to feel his touch. He’ll always have this power over me. His hand trails to my stomach and his fingers flick at the tip of my black panties. “You know it’s never going to work with that teacher of yours. I hate playing the same damned tune, but it might be time for you to retire from this business of misery. Do you really want to go through that heartbreak again?”

He’s made his way in—the palm of his hand caresses me from beneath the fabric that should have kept him out. I pull away from him before he’s able to win. He can’t have me, but I have to let him think he can.

Turning to face him, I press my own palm against his chest and guide him backward to the bed. “This time I’ll be different. Summer is right around the corner and I’m not about to leave my senior year legacy tarnished.” Once we reach the bed, he pushes his jeans down his hips, but before he can free himself completely, I push him backward with a forceful blow and take a seat in his lap so that we’re face to face. “Instead of being remembered for being forced out of Kappa Zeta Bullshit-eta, I will be remembered as that girl who did the impossible.”

“Yeah. We’re talking Olympic-like odds here.”

I throw my arms around his neck and he steadies himself with his hands pushed against the mattress. “Every girl on campus wants him. He’s like the ultimate prize of every young girls fucked up daddy fantasy. I’ll be the one to claim him.”

“Then what?”

“I’ll break his heart and destroy his reputation in the process.”

He throws his arms around my waist and squeezes me tightly. “You’re quite the vindictive bitch, aren’t you?”

I give him another blow against his chest, knocking him onto his back. “You think you know me, Brick. I’ll continue surprising you while you continue to flatline.”

“All of this for a bad grade? “ His brow furrows, as if it’s a shocking revelation that something so small could trigger something so cruel. “It’s not like you actually deserved anything higher than an ‘F’.”

“It’s not about the grade. It’s not even about him. It’s about being the girl accomplishing what nobody else could.” I buck my hips and bounce against his restrained cock. “I’ll be a legend.”

“Wait a minute,” he says and pushes me off him and to the side. “Did you say I was flatlining?”

“I’m going to need you to keep up, Brick.”

“Nah.” He reaches down and adjusts his dick through the thin, black fabric of boxer briefs. It’s important—apparently—to make sure your junk is comfortable before confronting accusations about your stagnating reputation. “You can’t just put something like that out there.”