Flirt: Bad Boy Romance (7 page)

April

I couldn’t concentrate on my homework. Every thought was poisoned by Wes and how he looked at me, how he touched me, how amazing he smelled, and how dangerous he was. More than anything, he was a danger. To my grades. To my virginity.

Not to my heart though. I could never fall in love with someone like him.

The minutes ticked by slowly, but finally, it was time for me to help fix dinner. I started to peel the potatoes, even though we always left the skin on when making mashed with red-skinned potatoes. I used the wrong knife to chop up vegetables, and I killed the salad with dressing. Every piece of lettuce was drenched, disgustingly so.

No one made a comment, though, but my mom did keep glancing at me, both throughout meal prep and while we were eating. If she had asked me what was going on, I would’ve been hard pressed to lie to her. I always told the truth, but how could I tell her about my feelings toward Wes? I shouldn’t have any. Not like this.

Cheeks heated, I kept my head down, unable to look at him or anyone else, and choked down some food. As soon as I was done eating, I rushed back upstairs to finish my homework.

For once, I rushed through it. Grades were important to me, because grades meant college, and college meant the future. Tonight, though, I just couldn’t be bothered. After I completed the last bit of work and snapped shut my last textbook, I flopped onto my bed.

After a moment, I heard a soft, strange sound. I darted to the window and watched Wes hide a motorbike. How did he get that? And riding without a helmet? He was far too reckless. He was going to get himself killed.

So I left my room, intent on telling him this, but he somehow managed to worm his way under my skin again. And it wasn’t in a bad way. Not at all. A way that left me staring at his backside as he left me at the top of the stairs and went into his room right next to mine.

Don’t think about him. Don’t think about Wes.
I tried to blot him out of my mind as I returned to my room and lay back down on my bed. But, of course, my thoughts returned to him. Traitorous mind. The images conjured from the lunch table didn’t help any. I so wanted to resist, but I can’t help myself. It was late. No one else was awake. No one ever had to know.

My hand slipped between my legs, feeling myself, my wetness. If he had kept touching me like he had near the stairs…if he had led me back to my room…then my fingers might have been his fingers.

Imagining his hands all over me, his hot mouth, those sexy eyes, my fingers worked their magic like never before. I could imagine kissing his full lips, running my hands down his muscular body—because I already knew it was hard from earlier by the water fountain. I could just picture how he would look when he was turned on. His eyes would be half lidded, and the curve of his lips would be so wild and sexy. And if those lips were to kiss me everywhere, including between my legs…

My thoughts, my fingers…it was more than I could handle. I was shocked when I unexpectedly let out a loud mewl as I climaxed. My hand clamped over my mouth, my fingers wet and sticky. Everything was quiet. No one heard.

But then there was a bump from the other side of my wall.

Oh no. Somehow, I’d forgotten that Wes slept in the room next to mine.

My heart raced. Was he awake? Did he hear me? The thought was forbiddingly hot. After that conversation on the ride home from school, he’d easily know who I had been fantasizing about while I’d masturbated.

I had masturbated before but never quite like this. I had never climaxed quite so hard before. I was still shaking from it.

I held my breath. Nothing followed the bump. He must have just turned in his sleep.

That was a good thing…right?

***

At school the next day, I did everything humanly possible to avoid Wes, even sat at desks I didn’t normally sit in if the surrounding seats were already claimed so he couldn’t sit near me even if he wanted to.

Every time someone looked my way, I couldn’t help feeling that my thoughts and my desire were visible, that everyone knew I masturbated last night, that they might suspected who I’d masturbated while daydreaming about. It was ridiculous. No one knew anything. No one, not even Wes. I’d been paranoid thinking I’d heard a bump.

At lunch, my girlfriends talked on and on about Wes again. I didn’t say a thing. It took everything in me to make sure I wasn’t blushing at all, from what they were saying to my own thoughts. I would not give Wes the satisfaction of knowing that we—they—were talking about him again.

To make matters worse—or maybe better, I wasn’t sure—Adam, my crush, casually sauntered over to me after my last period as I was grabbing my books from my locker.

“Hey, April.” His dark eyes were always so expressive. Some girls liked abs. Others liked facial hair. I was all about eyes.

Wes had unbelievably blue eyes.

Enough!

“Hi, Adam,” I said. For some reason, I didn’t feel as nervous around him like I normally did.

“I was wondering if—”

An arm came out of nowhere and landed around my shoulders. I glanced over to see Wes. He saluted Adam, turned me around, and walked off with me in tow, all in the matter of seconds. Before I knew it, we’d left the building.

“Who was he?” Wes asked casually.

I was reeling—stunned, flustered, and angry. I jerked away to try to dislodge his arm, but he kept it in place. What did he have, suction grip? “Get off of me,” I muttered.

Wes smirked. “Oh? Is that what you want me to do?”

What? Oh…oh no. I swallowed hard, trying to ignore my rising panic. Maybe he had heard me last night! No. No, no, no. This wasn’t good. Not at all.
Don’t look at him. Don’t talk to him. Don’t think about him. Ignore.

He walked me to my car, looking all smug and hot and damn him!

“Did you manage to get to all of your classes today?” I asked, desperate to talk about anything else, anything but me getting off or him getting me off. So wrong and inappropriate on so many levels.

“Maybe.” He shrugged.

“You fitting in okay?” A stupid question. Everyone seemed to know him already. All the girls were in love with him, and all the guys, instead of hating him, wanted to be friends with him. He was suave and charming.

There I went again.

Dangerous. That was what he was. There was an alluring edge to him, that little unexplainable aspect that made bad boys irresistible.

“You could say so.” Another shrug.

Vague responses. Deliberately trying to be mysterious? Or just trying to get under my skin? Funny how he had nothing much to say when the subject was school. Only when the topic of discussion was something sexual could he talk for hours. He probably had a ton of experience. Kissed a hundred girls. A player. Normally, that wasn’t the kind of guy I had a crush on, let alone wanted to actually engage in my fantasies in real life, but in this case, I almost liked the idea of being with someone experienced. At least it meant he knew what he was doing, that one of us did.

But this kind of thinking was wrong and pointless. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I unlocked the car, and he opened the door for me, even helped me in. I wanted to yell at him, to tell him I could take care of myself, but I didn’t. It would be best to ignore him. Yes. A solid plan.

If I could follow through with it.

I reached to shut the door, but he held it open. “See you tonight, sis,” he said in a teasing tone that started an itch between my legs that only masturbating could alleviate. It was so wrong to want him.

But I did.

With a wink, he shut my car door and sauntered over to his bike. His backside was just as gawk-able as his front. He straddled his bike—still not wearing a helmet—and took off.

Sighing, I started up my car and drove away. “See you tonight,” I mumbled.

God help me.

I parked my car in front of the garage—there wasn’t room for mine in there. Walter had three cars, and his wives each had one too. The garage only held four cars, so each week, a different wife’s car claimed the last spot. Kind of excessive. Wondered what Wes thought about all of this. Probably that we wasted money and spent too freely and didn’t realize how good we had it.

Or maybe he didn’t bother to think about us much at all.

After I climbed out of my car, I couldn’t help glancing over to where I’d seen him stash his bike yesterday, but I didn’t actually go over to see if it was there. It was obvious from his mother’s face when I walked into the house that Wes wasn’t home. If my dad found out about that, it would not be good. Not at all. Not that I cared. It didn’t bother me. Wes would have to learn and accept the rules sooner or later. It might do him some good to have some discipline, to realize his actions had consequences.

The mental image of him lying in a pool of his blood in the middle of the highway proved that I did care. Okay, yeah, so I was worried about him. Wouldn’t any good sister be? Step-sister. No blood relation.

Gah, I had never been so caught up in a guy before, not even Adam. I needed a distraction and badly. Cleaning. Yes. Hardcore cleaning. Whenever I got into a fight with friends or needed to relieve stress, I cleaned. It helped take my mind off of things, and, boy, did I need to take my mind off of Wes.

So I got out the cleaning solutions and set about wiping down the wooden floors. I even waxed them for good measure, all the while going over each and every one of the bad aspects of Wes—the trouble he’d gotten in over the years with his foster parents and the state, his lack of respect, his selfish desire to use people. No way did he have the money to get himself that bike, and I’d bet my savings he conned the money for it out of his mom. Plus we’d both be graduating and leaving soon, although who knew if he would be going to college. He so didn’t seem to be the student type. Instead of finding the hypotenuse of a triangle, he was busying adding up the number of his conquests. Wes was a player, and he thought he could get any girl he set his sights on. He was obviously just teasing me for fun. Pressing up against me, warning me to be worried about myself.

Then there was Adam. I’d had a crush on him for years now. He was so much more my speed. Good-looking, smart, kind…he’d never push the envelope like Wes did. Wes was a bad boy, and I didn’t need a bad boy in my life. He was way out of my league, untouchable, my step-brother.

“What’s wrong, hon?” my mom asked, appearing in the doorway of the living room.

“Nothing’s wrong.” I scrubbed a small stain to avoid looking at her, even after I worked the stain out.

She crouched beside me. “Talk to me. I know something’s bothering you. Is it one of your friends?”

“Nope.” Wes wasn’t a friend. Didn’t know what exactly he was to me, and it would probably be best to avoid figuring that out. Maybe ignoring him for the next five months would be ideal. Pretend he didn’t exist. He’d ridden his bike to school today. If he continued to do that, there was that much less time for us to be together alone.

“That boy you like?” Mom pressed. “Adam?”

As much as I had a close relationship with her and told her just about everything, I just couldn’t talk to her about this. She’d never understand.

“Not him either,” I muttered.

“Aha, so something is up.” She reached over and patted my shoulder. “You know you can always talk to me, right?”

I finally glanced over at her. My mom and I were closer than most of my friends were with their moms. And I also had Dad’s other wives to talk to too, if I wanted. It wasn’t always easy, having so many parental figures, but maybe the one I should be talking to was Wes’s mom.

No, that wouldn’t be a good idea either. I mean, I couldn’t come out and say, “Hi, Jacqueline. How are you? By the way, I’m attracted to your son. What do you think I should do about it?”

“Is it your grades?” Mom asked. “Didn’t you do well on your report on the Mayan civilization?”

“It was the Aztecs, and I did fine on that.” But her question gave me inspiration. I had to give her something, otherwise Mom would keep probing. “I guess I’m worried about the future. What comes next. It’s kinda scary, you know?”

The concern on her face melted away. “Aw, April, yes, the future can be scary, but it can be wonderful too. You have a bright future ahead of you. I know you’ll do great, whatever you decide you want to do. Community college is the best way to go.”

She hugged me tight, and I had to admit I did feel better. Wes would only be a part of my life for five months. Then he’d move on, I’d move on, and my stupid attraction would be over and done with.

Besides, with the grades I suspected Wes was getting, he’d never get into a college, whereas Adam was going to the same community college I planned on attending. My dad knew several members of the faculty there and was even friends with the president. It was a great school. If only Wes would keep his hands off of me in front of Adam and everyone else. Not that I wanted his hands on me when we were alone either.

Maybe I could finally make some headway with Adam. Heck, maybe I should just ask Adam out and be done with it. But Dad would find out, and he’d freak. Men were supposed to make the first move. And I wanted Wes to make the first move. No, not Wes! Adam!

Why couldn’t I stop being so obsessed with him? Why couldn’t I forget how I felt when he pressed up against me? I almost thought he might have gotten hard. I didn’t think Wes wore a belt, and I knew I felt something hard pressing against my butt.

When it came to guys and sex, I was a little inexperienced. Maybe that was why I couldn’t stop thinking about Wes. Because he made me think about something hot and forbidden…doubly forbidden because sex with my step-brother was even more illicit than sex with Adam.

Honestly, I shouldn’t be thinking about sex with either of them.

After I waxed every wooden floor in the house, I started to do some laundry, still needing a distraction form my thoughts, only I found myself wondering if Wes wore boxers or briefs.

Hopeless. I was hopeless.

***

By the time dinner rolled around, Wes still wasn’t home. If Dad hadn’t realized before that Wes had disobeyed his rule to come straight home after school, he did now. He kept shooting glances my way, as if he wanted to ask me something. It took me halfway through the tense meal—so tense that even P and P seemed to realize it, and they kept their antagonizing down to a minimum—before I figured out what Dad was thinking: that I should’ve driven him home. Because Dad didn’t know about the motorbike.

Well, I wasn’t my brother’s , or rather my step-brother’s, keeper.

Thankfully, Dad didn’t ask me about him, and after I was excused, I studied and completed homework until I heard the same soft, strange sound I heard yesterday. I glanced out the window to see Wes driving up and hiding his bike. Before I knew what I was doing, I dropped my notebook and pen and opened my bedroom door.

From my vantage point at the top of the stairs, I watched Wes stroll in through the front door as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Then my dad came into view, his arms crossed.
Wes’ll start caring now.

“Do you know what time it is, Wesley?” My dad’s voice boomed, echoing. His voice carried so well it sounded like he was standing next to me.

I really hoped he didn’t look my way. He hated when people eavesdropped, but I had no plans on going back to my room, not just yet. I wanted to see how this would all turn out.

“It’s late,” Dad continued. “You missed dinner. The kitchen is closed, so I hope you aren’t hungry.”

“I’m not,” Wes said coolly.

I winced. He’d learn soon enough that you didn’t back talk in this house. Aggravating Dad was never a good idea.

“Disobedience won’t be tolerated in my home.” Dad’s voice sounded level and even, but I could hear the undercurrent of anger there. “Do you understand? This is my home. While you’re staying here—”

I winced again. Staying here sounded so temporary. After all the foster homes Wes bounced around from, that had to be an intentional slight.
Don’t interrupt him. Don’t talk back.

Wes was staring at the floor, and it looked like he wasn’t even listening. Better than talking back, but it would be even better if he were looking Dad in the eye.

“You will obey my rules,” Dad barked. “All of them. Without fail. Do you understand?”

Dad never talked to me in such a harsh tone, and his lashing out seemed a little over the top. Wes was eighteen. He was his own person. He wasn’t going to think of Walter as his step-dad, especially if all Dad did was yell at him and critique him and nitpick over every little thing. They were going to clash and clash and clash.

Unless my dad kicked him out before Wes was supposed to leave. Or maybe Wes wouldn’t accept his demands and would leave early. What would Wes do then? I hated to think he’d be stuck out in the world without any support from family, but right now at least, I had a feeling that would be the case regardless after he graduated from high school. Wes kept to himself too much, and he didn’t seem to want to get to know his mom, let alone the others. He probably talked to me more than her. And I didn’t know what to think about that. His mother hadn’t been there for him for so many years. He had a lot of hostility and anger, I was sure, and it wasn’t without good reason. He would hate it if he knew, but I felt badly for him.

For another two minutes, my dad yelled at him. Wes remained quiet throughout—so smart on his part—and then headed upstairs.

Although I knew I shouldn’t bother—that it wasn’t any of my business, that he wouldn’t be in a good mood right now—I couldn’t bring myself to go back to my room without talking to him first. I confronted him when he reached the top of the stairs, shooting off questions like they were bullets a trigger-happy person was firing. “Where were you? Why were you so late? Why don’t you wear a helmet?”

He made a scoffing sound and held up his hand. “Don’t. Don’t pester me.”

Pester? I bristled until I realized how I was coming across. I
was
pestering him. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, a little sarcastically. I crossed my arms. “I only wanted to save you from my dad’s wrath. Trust me. I’ve seen him with P and P. You don’t—”

“P and P? That’s how you refer to Peter and Paul?” His lips quirked into a teasing smile, but he still looked a little pissed off. That dangerous, alluring edge to him was still there. “I like that. Stealing it.”

“Fine. They like it. They won’t mind.” I wasn’t about to let him change the subject. Glaring at him, I waved my arm to show we were done talking about the boys. “But when my dad gets mad, he gets really mad, and if you don’t like him already, you’ll hate him when he’s furious. Just wanted to give you a warning. That’s all.” I shrugged and crossed my arms again. “I don’t care where you went.”

He was staring at me, through me, reading me like I was a book. Every part of him—from his smirk to his raised eyebrows, his own crossed arms and tilted head—screamed
she must be kidding.

My tempered flared. I normally never allowed someone to have so much control over my emotions, but Wes affected me like no one else. Which was bad. So very bad.

“You think you’re so attractive and charming and cool, but…but that’s not the case at all.” I took a deep breath. My cheeks were so hot right now, almost as hot as Wes. Ugh! I had to stop this awkward dance between us. He had to realize I didn’t want him that way, that I didn’t see him that way.

If only that was the truth.

“In fact, I-I can’t stand you, I think you’re a-annoying, and it’s all an act. All…all of it.” I held out my hand and gestured from his head to his feet. “I-I was only trying to be a…be a good person.”