In the Bad Boy's Bed (6 page)

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Authors: Sophia Ryan

Tags: #love, #sex, #coming of age, #young lovers, #college, #motorcycle, #parties, #bad boy, #wealth, #romance, #wrong side of tracks, #passion, #sorority, #teens, #Young Adult Romance, #judging people, #secret rendezvous, #good girl, #poverty, #prep-school, #young adults, #new life, #violence, #preppy, #high school, #fraternity, #kissing, #river

BOOK: In the Bad Boy's Bed
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As our wetness trickled out of me, I wondered what answer I'd see in his eyes when he found the strength to open them. Wondered whether this would be our last time together in this way.

His eyes slowly opened to halfway, found mine. I had my answer, but I had to make sure. I smiled.

"Please, Nick. Do this for me. For now." The words whispered out, my mouth too dry to speak in a normal voice.

He wrapped his arms all the way around me and lowered me to the blanket. He lay on top of me, claiming my body as his.

"For now, Angel. But not for long. You're going to have to choose." And then he kissed me and I forgot about everything but the touch of his hand and the taste of his mouth.

Chapter Four

The next day, Gena and I were sitting in the senior commons, talking, when I felt eyes on me. My skin warmed as if it caressed by a loving hand. I glanced around and saw Nick at his locker. He nodded slightly in greeting. My heart flipped and my smile grew at the heat in his eyes. I wanted to rush into his arms, kiss him, walk to class holding his hand. But instead I stayed planted in my seat, watching him and only half listening to my friend.

Sean plopped himself in the foot-wide space between Gena and me, knocking us both aside.

"Sean! What the hell!" I shot him a hateful look.

He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. I didn't stop him in time from kissing me, but I moved back as quickly as I could and scooted far away from him.

"Damn, Angela. Nice to see you, too," Sean said, frowning at me as if I'd insulted him.

My eyes flew to Nick. His hands were fists and his face was a mask of fury. He looked like he was so tightly wound he'd spring if anyone breathed on him.

I stood and slipped my backpack over my shoulder. "Gena, I want to get to Bio early. Walk with me?"

Gena wide-eyed stared from me to Sean and back, trying to figure out what was going on. I could understand her confusion. The only details I'd shared with her about my breakup with Sean were that we'd had another fight and that I didn't want to see him anymore, and I certainly hadn't shared any details about my relationship with Nick.

"Gena?" I prompted, and shook her out of her fog.

"Uh, yeah." She jumped up and grabbed her bag.

We had to walk past Nick on our way out of the commons. I could tell he was still upset, and when I gave him a small smile as we passed, he didn't smile back. Right before I exited the door, I heard his locker slam.

"OK, that was awkward," Gena said when we were walking down the path to the library. "What is up with you guys?"

"I told you: I broke up with Sean."

"No, I mean with you and Nick."

I stumbled over my feet. "What are you talking about?"

She laughed. "Don't play innocent with me. I saw the looks passing between you two. The heat was singeing my hair."

I rolled my eyes at her to dismiss her claims. "I don't know what you think you saw, but I'm telling you there's nothing between me and Nick Donnelly. I don't even know him."

Gena grabbed my arm and stopped me. "Angie."

I looked at her. "What?"

"If something is going on between you two, you better work extra hard to make sure Sean doesn't find out."

"Why?"

"Remember how you sat next to Kyle Jonah in class yesterday?"

At my nod, she continued. "I heard Sean and his friend, Max, shoved him up against the cafeteria wall outside and threatened to "rearrange his face" if he ever sat next to you again. Nick stepped in and made them let him go. Kyle came to Spanish looking like he was about to cry."

My eyebrows lowered into a frown. "I sat next to Kyle because that was the only empty seat," I said.

"Yeah, I know that. Just think what Sean'll do if he suspects you and Nick are doing more than just sitting together."

"I told you, we're not—"

She held out her hand, palm toward me. "Whatever, girl. I'm just saying. If I were you, I'd warn him."

"Warn who?"

I spun around. Sean stood behind me, suspicion reddening his face.

I linked my arm with Gena's and led her down the path. Sean moved in front of us, not letting us pass.

"Warn who?" He stuck his face in Gena's face.

"Warn you to brush your teeth a little more often," she said, stepping back and waving her hand in front of her nose. "Dude, your breath smells like ass."

Sean smiled, like a wolf grinning at a sheep he was about to devour. "You're funny, Gena."

"C'mon Gena, we're going to be late." I stepped between them and again linked her arm with mine and pulled her away toward a group of teachers who were walking down the path. Sean didn't follow us, but I felt him staring after us.

I went into the commons during my free period to leave a note in Nick's locker asking him to meet me. We'd met past the soccer field by the grove of trees a few times to see each other and to make out. It was as far away from school we could get and still be on campus.

I'd been pacing and gritting my teeth for ten minutes when I saw him running toward me. He had such a graceful gait, like running was as easy as breathing for him.

Just watching his body in motion dissolved my anger and made me wish we were at our spot on the river. Unfortunately, he had to go into work early, leaving no time for me after school.

"You're late," I said, chilling the words to ice cubes. I wasn't that mad anymore, but I couldn't let him get away with making me wait.

He laughed and pulled me into his embrace.

I kept my arms crossed, my mouth averted.

"I just got your note," he said. "Davis kept me late to go over my Chem test."

"You need to get a cell phone," I said, frost still dusting my voice, "so I can text you instead of leaving you little notes that you usually don't see."

"Cell phones are for spoiled rich kids, not poor working kids like me. C'mon, give me some love, spoiled rich kid."

"You think I called you here just so you could ravage my body?" I teased as his lips snuggled against mine.

"Yes."

In truth, I hadn't called him for any other reason but to warn him about Sean, but now that he was here, pressed against me, setting fires inside me, having his body ravage mine was the only thing on my mind. The remaining icicles of anger melted in the heat of his embrace.

I met his eyes with a wicked grin. "Got a problem with that?"

He chuckled softly and slipped his hand inside my shirt, cupped my breast, playing his thumb across my nipple like a tight guitar string. "What do you think?"

Trouble was, I couldn't think. The fire raging in my body had burned away my supplies of oxygen. I struggled to speak my heart. "Ah, Nick. Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

"The same thing you do to me," he whispered into my skin.

Had two people ever been more sexually compatible than Nick and me? Sean and I sure weren't. The couple of times we'd had sex, he was fast and rough and paid no mind to my pleasure. With Sean, I had avoided sex. With Nick, I couldn't get enough.

"Let's get out of here." He compelled me with his hands, his mouth.

The no on my tongue felt like a burr. "Class starts in a few minutes."

"Ah, that's too bad." He slid from my arms, a grin on his face. "Guess we'll have to wait. Maybe next week some time."

I stopped him, pulled him back to me and wrapped my leg around his to let him know that I wouldn't wait, couldn't wait.

"No, not next week. Now. Meet me in the parking lot in five minutes."

He kissed me hard on the mouth, then turned and ran back the way he'd come. On unsteady legs I rushed toward the parking lot, convinced I would destroy anything or anyone who got in my way.

Keeping a constant watch on my surroundings to make sure no one was there to see me leave, I stepped into the parking lot and raced for my car, clicking the alarm button on the key fob as I did. I had my hand on the door when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around, my heart pounding a hole in my chest.

"Hello, Angela."

Our headmaster, Daniel Wilson, stood behind me, a question of a smile on his face.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Wilson." I like to think I recovered pretty quickly, but by the concerned look on his face, I think I looked as guilty as I felt. "I didn't see you there."

"Did I startle you?"

I laughed. "My stomach's screaming for food, so I wasn't paying attention to anything but getting out of here and getting some lunch."

He checked his watch, and I knew he was going to comment that my lunch was fifteen minutes from being over and that my class was starting right after that. My brain went into overdrive trying to think of something to distract him.

"Uh, how's Ming?"

The smile on his face grew to enormous proportions, and I knew I'd hit on the right dodge. Everyone knew about Mr. Wilson's great love for his new pug puppy.

"Ming? Oh, she's such a joy. I taught her to shake hands last night."

I hoped my chuckle didn't sound as fake to him as it sounded to me. "What a fast learner she is."

His face clouded over for a moment, and I thought I was in for it.

"You know the wife and I weren't blessed with our own children."

In the pause that followed, he looked so sad that I felt something other than hunger or desire gnawing at my stomach.

"You'd have made a terrific father, Mr. Wilson. You're so patient and understanding. Ming's lucky. And so are we . . . all your students."

That seemed to please him because he brightened again, and laughed. "Well, I don't know about that, but thank you, Angela." He patted my shoulder. "You're a sweet girl for saying so."

I smiled.

"OK, now you get on to lunch so you can get back in time for your next class."

"I will," I said to his retreating form, just as Nick ran across the quad toward the parking lot. Mr. Wilson called out to him, stopping him. I couldn't hear their exchange, but I understood the conversation by their motions.

Nick looked toward the parking lot. Mr. Wilson shook his head. Nick shook his head, then dropped his backpack onto the cement, unzipped it, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Mr. Wilson pulled it out of his hand, unfolded it, read it thoroughly as if looking for problems, then tossed it back toward him. It fell to the ground. Nick picked it up, refolded it, and returned it to his backpack. Mr. Wilson said some parting words, complete with finger pointing, and stormed away toward the administration building.

Giving him a final look, Nick stood and continued on his way to the lot at a furious walk. His face was a thundercloud of emotion. He passed my car with barely a look in my direction and walked toward the road.

I jumped into my car and soon pulled up next to him, rolled down the window.

"Nick. Get in."

He kept walking, his body stiff like a soldier on a march, his eyes focused on unseen enemies ahead.

One eye on the road, one on Nick, I called to him again. "Nick, please. I need you."

He stopped, turned his eyes to me. "I'm the last person you need. Just go back to your world. You don't belong in mine any more than I belong in yours."

He would have walked off again, but I gunned it and pulled off the road in front of him. I jumped out of the car and went to him, grabbing his arm.

"What happened with Wilson?" I demanded, though I already had a good idea.

"Never mind. It doesn't matter."

He shook free of my grip and moved away. I stepped in front of him again and wrapped my arms around his waist.

"It matters to me." I kissed him.

He didn't move away, but his statue-like stance didn't bend, his tight mouth stayed firm.

"You matter to me." I kissed him again. And again.

I soon felt his lips go soft, warm. Felt him kiss me back. Felt his rigid posture relax against me as he curled his arms around my hips.

These kisses felt different somehow than any other kisses we'd shared. They weren't hot like those that drove us to this point. They weren't playful, like so many times before. They went deeper, made me feel comforted and comfortable, like we'd buried ourselves together beneath a fuzzy blanket on a snowy morning. I felt connected to him in a way I hadn't been before.

It scared me, in an I've-just-been-shocked kind of way. I pulled back slightly. Took his hand. Smiled. "Now get in the car, Donnelly. You promised me some lovin'."

The roads leading down to the riverbank were still muddy from the rain a few nights back and I didn't want to chance getting my car stuck. The explanations would be impossible. I suggested we go to a movie and sit at the very top row. He suggested we go to his house.

I pulled into the driveway of a house that would fit into my three-car garage. The red brick walls were bordered with tan plastic siding. Windows, though small, were spider-web free, and unlike some of the neighboring homes, had screens that were intact and in place. A little patch of grass grew inside a rectangular border of thick railroad ties, and a couple of bushes with yellow flowers guarded the front door.

It was old and used, with a favorite-old-pair-of-shoes feeling to it. It was so different from my own home.

Nick unlocked the front door and pushed it open for me. I stood on the two-foot wide cement porch as motionless as the potted plants next to me, nervous about going inside. He took my hand and kissed my palm. The other hand went to my waist.

"C'mon. Let's go in."

My feet felt like part of the cement. "Are you sure this is OK?" I looked behind me as if someone was watching me.

"Yeah, Mom hid the drugs and bodies before she went to work."

My stomach dropped to my knees and it felt like my eyes were bugging out. He laughed.

Up to that point, I had my purse tucked up tightly under my arm, with both hands holding onto it. As I realized he was making fun of my reaction, I rapped him with it.

"Oh, you are so not funny."

"If you'd seen your face, you'd laugh. You were scared to death."

"No I wasn't."

Doubt lifted his eyebrows and he shook his head.

"I wasn't." I insisted.

"My mistake."

I stepped through the door and took in the details of the orderly, clean, fresh-smelling room. Light filled the space through tied-back sheer curtains. Not a speck of dust blemished the polished but scarred wooden coffee table and matching lamp table, or the bedside table that held an old TV whose picture area was only slightly bigger than my laptop's 17-inch screen.

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