Return of the Bad Boy (25 page)

I give a weak smile. “Sorry. I’m…really tired. And I came home to find a note from my ex-boyfriend on the door saying he’s found me.”

“I’m guessing that’s a bad thing,” he says quietly. “I need you to tell me why.”

I squirm a little, discomfort blooming in my lower belly. I bite my lower lip and look away. I don’t want to look at him while I tell what happened. “Roger and I met at a party. He was really sweet and attentive at first. Totally into me. He told me he felt connected and vulnerable in a way he never had, and I was drawn to it. I’d…” I clear my throat. “I’d only ever been with one man before him, and he was an emotional dud. So I found Roger’s focus flattering and compelling.”

Smith doesn’t say anything, just lets me continue. His hand rubs soft circles on my back, soothing me in a silent gesture. I close my eyes and let the sensation give me strength to confess.

“Things moved fast. Roger thought we should move in together a month after we dated, but I managed to hold him off another couple of months. I skipped out on my lease and moved in with him, because his place was bigger and he felt it was a good start for us to grow. That eventually we’d find a home together.” Images of those early times flash through my mind. Roger’s gentle coercion to get his way. How he made me feel that what he wanted was best for both of us.

“Roger grew more…controlling as time went on. It started with him chastising me about how I spent my money and spare time. He tried to make it sound reasonable at first, like he was just giving me advice and I was overreacting for getting upset. But then it became that he wanted to mesh our bank accounts together. Which I stupidly did.” I can feel the old, familiar sickness over my stupidity swirling in my gut.

“Go on,” Smith urges me. I can’t tell what he’s feeling right now; his voice is even and quiet. I’m kind of afraid he’s probably questioning the wisdom of being with someone like me, but I make myself continue.

“Having access to my spending gave him more control over me. He was constantly harping on how much money I blew. If I drew cash out, he wanted to know what I was spending it on. I had to start keeping receipts to prove it.” I duck my head in shame and stare at my lap, fiddling with my fingertips. “A big source of contention for us was that I didn’t want to quit my job. He wanted me home, taking care of our place, but everything I did was wrong. I folded towels wrong. I didn’t buy the brand of toilet paper he wanted. One time I forgot to check the pantry and brought home duplicates of things we already had. I came home from work that night to find all the duplicates lined up on the dining room table. It was his way of shaming me. Making sure I know the he knew I fucked up.”

As I confess all of this, I find my old anger at Roger surging up in me again. My breathing gets quicker, and the blood pounds in my veins. “I wanted out, but I felt stuck. Our lives were intertwined. I wasn’t in love with him anymore, but he controlled everything. He’d taken over paying all the bills, including mine, so I had no idea where it all was. He’d even started doling out cash to me for spending money to ensure I didn’t go crazy. I told my friend this at work one night and she said he was abusive and I needed to get the hell out of it.” I swallow, thankful once more for Michaela. She helped me understand just how bad our relationship was. “She pushed me into getting my independence for a couple of months, and I quietly started searching for another job, casting my nets out of state, even.”

I pause. Smith is stiff, not saying a word. I wish I could read him. I turn to look into his eyes and he stares hard at me. A long moment passes.

It’s difficult, but I make myself keep looking at him as I reveal what happened that night. “When I had a lead on a position in a different state, one that seemed promising, I finally gathered my courage and told Roger that I was done. That I don’t love him and I want us to break up and separate all our entanglements. Upon retrospect, telling him when he was drinking wasn’t my best idea. He got super angry with me, called me a whore, asked me again and again if I was cheating on him and leaving him for another man. Said he’d followed me at work and had seen me talking to men when I was there, or running errands. I…was shocked.” All the tension from learning about that reveal came back into me, and I started to shake again. “He’d put keystroke detection on my laptop and was monitoring everything I was saying. All this time, Roger had been watching me. Checking my text messages on my cell phone when I wasn’t looking, seeing who I was talking to, reading my emails.”

I close my eyes. “He grabbed me hard and shook me. I tried to get away from him but he wouldn’t let go. I got scared and shoved at his chest, and he screamed at me to stop fighting him, that I was making a mistake leaving him. That he’d make me sorry if I thought I could walk away like this. That he had a say in our relationship and he wasn’t done yet.” I press trembling fingers to my stomach and make myself breathe. The horror of that night, the overwhelming fear I felt, shudders through me. “So I stayed, because I was petrified. I stayed for another couple of weeks. During that time, Roger was his usual self—and why wouldn’t he be? He got his way. I was still there. Until one day, my cell phone rang and I got the job offer from here. I accepted on the spot. Then the next day, I waited until he was at work and I packed everything I owned and left. I drove to the bank and took out enough money for me to live on. When I made it to a friend’s house, I contacted my bills. Turns out Roger hadn’t paid any of them. He was hoarding my money and keeping me indebted to him. I worked out a payment plan to get me back on track.”

Shame burns me all over. I get up and move from his lap, and he doesn’t stop me. The rawness I’m feeling hurts so badly. Telling him that story, confessing it all, makes me realize what an utter fool I was with Roger. How did I let him control me like that? What is wrong with me?

I go to a window and press my forehead to it, looking down. I don’t see anyone out there who looks like Roger. No cars parked nearby. I finally let my guard down and Roger came back into my life, destroying everything again. And now that I’ve finally found someone I connect with, someone who excites me and stimulates me, he ruins it all.

I hate him. So deeply.

And I kind of hate myself for being stupid and weak.

Soft hands touch my upper arms, then wrap around me, and Smith tugs me to his chest. He’s holding me tightly, pressing small kisses to the side of my brow, then he turns me in his arms and grips me.

I can feel his body is so tense he seems like a live wire, and it makes me pause.

“If this fucker ever tries to harm you again, I’ll fucking kill him,” he says in such a cold, furious tone, it takes me aback. “I will protect you from him, I swear it. You will never have to be afraid of him or anyone else.” His words are breathed against my forehead, rustling the small hairs there. “I will find him and make sure he knows he will leave you alone for good.”

Listening to Smith, I’m convinced he means it. Some of the fear dissipates from my body, and I sag against him. He grabs me and scoops me into his arms again, carrying me down a dark hallway, kicking open a door. Then I’m delicately laid on a bed, and he’s curled up behind me, cupping me. My back is warm against his chest.

“Sleep, baby,” he tells me in a gentle tone. His hand rubs my hair, my back. “Trust me. I’ll protect you. Sleep.”

I didn’t think I could, but I find my eyelids drifting closed. I’m so tired, and crying made me even more fatigued. Between the low hum of the fan above us and Smith’s steady warmth, I find myself drifting into a dreamless sleep.

I
’m not
sure what time it is when I awaken, but I realize there’s a curvy form arched against me in my bed, and my cock is aching so hard I could hammer nails. Everything surges back to me—Aubrey’s horrifying story, how her insane ex tracked her down.

There’s no fucking way I’m letting that man anywhere near her. He has no idea who he’s dealing with now, but he’ll find out very soon if he pushes his luck.

When she gives a small groan in her sleep, I realize I’m gripping her hip and relax my fingers. I look down at her sleepy form, the dark lashes brushing the tops of her cheeks, her pink lips relaxed as she dozes. This girl is insanely gorgeous and sweet, and that asshole took advantage of her goodness.

I might not be perfect, and I might be the worst kind of man slut, but I would never want to treat her that way. I know that much for certain. My hunger comes from wanting to please her, give her the kind of pain she’d crave, not fear.

Consensual.

I would cut myself before I made her afraid of me. Before I shamed her or guilted her or abused her. For once, I’m glad I know enough questionable people. I have friends who will keep an eye out for this dick…

Aubrey deserves that.

I stretch out against her, willing myself to calm down. This is not the time to be horny for her. But it’s hard to help it when she’s so soft and pliant right now. And having her trust me after what she went through… I won’t fuck that up no matter what it means I have to do.

I make myself get out of bed, despite every cell in my body screaming at me for it, and pad to the kitchen to make coffee. She’ll want some when she wakes up, I’m sure. Seems like every nurse I ever met lives on the shit. Maybe some breakfast too. I dig through my fridge. Fuck, I need to go shopping. I do see lunchmeat and cheese—a quick sniff confirms they’re still okay. I have bread on the countertop too.

Small hands touch me from behind, setting my skin on fire. I turn to face the sleepy eyes of Aubrey, peering up at me, wearing only her scrub top and panties. Her legs are bare, and my cock throbs painfully at the sight. Holy fucking God, this woman is so beautiful.

“Whatcha doing?” she asks in a sleep-thick tone. “You left the bed. I wasn’t sure where you were.”

I draw her close to me and kiss her brow. “I didn’t leave.”

I hear her chuckle. “I can see that, goof. Just…well, we really didn’t talk much about what you felt about what I said, and…”

“Sweetheart.” I tug her head back so she’s looking up at me. The way she’s so open and lets me see everything just makes me want to kiss her endlessly, to plunge deep inside her. But this is so not the time for that. Not when she’s afraid. “It’s fine. I was just getting you some food and coffee. Figured you’d be ready for it.”

“Oh.” She tugs her lip between her teeth and worries it. “But…” Her shrug is light, and she glances away. “I dunno, I thought that maybe since…” Her cheeks go bright pink, and she peers up at me, and I see her eyelids go heavy.

Fuck. She wants to have sex. It’s all over her face, in her body language, the way her nipples hardening under her shirt as she’s talking. Aubrey wants me.

And I’m trying so fucking hard to be noble that I want to kill myself. The irony is bitter.

“I…” I cough. “Look, this probably isn’t the best time for us to do anything.”

She quirks a brow, feigning casualness even though the redness burns down her throat now to disappear into her shirt. “Oh? Are you on your period or something? I know cramps totally kill the mood.”

I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me. “You know what I’m saying, Aubrey.”

Her lips part and she presses her chest to me, lets me feel that she has no bra on underneath, that her nipples are rigid and aching for my touch. “Maybe I don’t. Maybe I just know that I want to feel good right now, and I want you to make me feel that way.”

I shoot her a warning glance. My cock is pulsing between us in my shorts. I know she can feel it, because she’s wiggling her lower belly against it. “Aubrey…”

Her eyes widen as she drops to her knees and when she eyes my cock, I groan. Before I realize what’s happening, she’s unzipping my fly and pulling me out, and my dick is pulsing in her hand, and then her tongue is on me and I’m soaring. God, yes. Yes. Her mouth is everything that’s perfect in this world.

I need to stop this, but I can’t make myself fight it anymore. Aubrey’s had enough people controlling her. If she wants us to have sex, I want her to feel like her opinion matters. She needs it.

So noble of yourself,
my dark side chides. Because truth is, while I do want her to have control, I also want to fuck her brains out.

I let my fingers dive into the silk of her hair and close my eyes, allow myself to feel the sheer pleasure of her soft, puffy lips around me. She is earnest and eager, her little tongue licking the underside of my head, and she makes these small noises that let me know she’s enjoying it too.

I can feel myself twitching in her mouth. I fight so hard the urge to push deep in her throat.
Stay still,
I warn myself.
Let her lead right now.
Aubrey’s mouth slides further toward my root, and her guttural groan makes my cock vibrate in her throat. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“You taste so good,” Aubrey manages to say around a mouthful of my dick. Her hands clench my hips and she draws me deeper, and then I’m hitting the back of her throat and she’s sucking me all the way in and my whole body is my throbbing pulse, and I ache for her, to come down her throat, but also to fuck her so hard she can’t walk for three days.

When she pulls off me and her tongue slides along the underside of my dick, back and forth in a teasing pattern that makes my balls tighten, I grip her hair and find myself bucking against her mouth.

“Aubrey,” I gasp, “I want so you fucking badly.”

“I want you too,” she groans as she grips the base of my dick and pops the head in her mouth. She slurps and sucks and licks, and then sighs. “Your precome taste so good, oh God. I want more.” The innocent way she says this makes me want to come off in her mouth.

It takes every fucking ounce of will I can muster to tug her off my feet. She looks disappointed until I grip the bottom of her shirt and practically rip it over her head. “In my bed, right fucking now, Aubrey.” My patience is wearing super thin. I need inside her in the next few minutes or I’m going to explode.

But I want to try something with her first.

Aubrey goes to my room, her ass swaying in front of me in lacy pink panties. When we get in there, I jerk her around, reach for the waistband of the panties, and rip them right off her.

She stiffens, and I see her nipples get hard. “Oh God, that was so hot,” she breathes.

“I’ll buy you a hundred more panties if I can tear them off you,” I tell her. “Now get on the bed.”

Aubrey obeys, lying down. I nudge her into the center and stretch her arms and hands out wide.

“Any time you want to stop, say red,” I tell her, staring into her eyes. “You wanted to try some things I’m into. This is your chance. Red to stop. Do you understand me?”

She nods.

“You need to tell me, Aubrey. Be vocal. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” Her voice is barely a whisper, and I can see her body shaking a little. But it’s not in fear. It’s desire. I can smell the damp heat pouring from her pussy, see her slick lower lips already aching to be touched.

“Red is stop. Yellow is slow down. Green means good.”

“Yes. I understand.” Aubrey stays still, and I reach over and grab the black leather cuff I have on the end of a chain in the corner of my bed. I can’t remember the last time I even had a chance to use these. But it doesn’t even matter, because clamping these on her wrists feels like it’s my first time. Her skin is soft, her wrists tiny in my grip. I tighten the cuff and then straddle her stomach so I can fasten the other.

Her eyes are locked on me. I see her breath rising and falling in rapid pants. Her pupils are small, her lips parted, and those nipples are begging to be kissed, nibbled.
You’re next,
I silently tell them.

I finish her wrists, then pull her feet wide enough apart so she’s completely spread eagle on the bed. I make fast work of binding her ankles. Then I stare at her naked body for a moment, let myself savor the sight.

Aubrey isn’t freaking out. She’s staring hard at me, almost writhing in her hunger. She wants this too.

Something in my chest releases, and I feel an old weight fly away.

I dig into my bedside table and procure two nipple clamps. Let’s see how this dove likes to play, if she can handle these. Her eyes widen but she doesn’t speak.

“We still green?” I ask her.

She nods, then remembers she’s supposed to speak. Licks her lips and says, “Yes. Um, green.”

I finally let myself touch her breast, feel her chest arch under my hand. Squeeze and mold the flesh. She’s so pliant for me right now, so eager for whatever is about to happen. When I clamp it over her nipple, she gives a whimper that shoots straight to my dick.

“Oh God, oh, wow, that feels…” Aubrey shudders and closes her eyes, and her body goes soft.

I quickly put on the other one. I need to be inside her right fucking now. I cannot wait another second. Her nipples are pinched in the clamps, and I swipe a hand along her cunt slit, and the wetness there drives me fucking mad. Just from tying and clamping her, she’s dripping for me.

She’s a dirty girl, Aubrey is, and I’m heady with my arousal for her. I blindly fumble for a condom before I lose my mind and rip the foil open, roll it on my painful dick.

Then I move on top of her, my forearms resting on the sides of her head, and I press my dick at her entrance.

Her pelvis jerks toward me, and she says, “Please, oh, please, I need you inside me.” Her chest is panting so hard the clamps are bobbing with the movement.

I slam into her, and she cries out. I let my fingers drift in her hair, touch her, tug her scalp, and I hammer her soaking wet pussy. Aubrey’s cries grow louder to nearly screams as she takes all of me in.

I drop a hand down to caress her clit and I feel the hard bud pulse under my fingertips. “You’re a wicked girl, aren’t you,” I breathe in her ear. “You like being fucked like this, dirty and spread open for me. Your nipples clamped and your wrists and ankles bound.”

“Yes,” she gasps.

We move together, and my body starts to slick with sweat. She’s slippery beneath my hand, around my dick, wet like I’ve never seen a woman before. Aubrey begins to buck her pelvis, her head pushed back on the pillow, body bowed.

“Are you going to come for me, my dirty girl?” I growl. I speed up my strokes on her pussy as I fuck her harder. I want to drive her crazy. I want to make her crave more of me, of this. I need it more than I need oxygen.

My own orgasm is swelling, and I fight it as best as I can. My balls are tight and tugged to my body, and my limbs are tense.

“I’m…so close,” she says, and then her eyes fly open. “Almost there.”

On impulse, I shift down until my mouth is over a clamp, and I pull it up and away from her body so her nipple is stretched harder.

Aubrey screams and erupts all around me. I feel her cunt juices gushing on my dick, and then I can’t hold my own orgasm back and I shoot my load into the condom, bucking on her, body vibrating, heart racing, lungs locked. Fuck, fuck, my brain is a jumbled mess and all I can think about is her name.

It takes a while before our orgasms subside. I pull myself together, withdraw from her, and then gently remove the clamps from her nipples. Her sudden inhalation turns into a sigh when I lick and kiss the tips. Then I remove her wrist cuffs, massaging the limbs to get blood back into them, then the ankle cuffs.

Aubrey’s body is lax and malleable as I maneuver her to lie on her side. I remove my condom and toss it away, then curl up against her, heart still racing like I’m on speed. She melts against my chest and gives a soft little sigh that tears me apart.

Fuck me, this woman is everything.

I’ve never had someone give herself to me so willingly, especially after everything she’s been through. Aubrey trusted me to take care of her, to not hurt her. I tug her tighter against me and swear that I won’t let her down. I can’t.

This woman has shaken me apart in every way, has turned my life upside down, and I need her.

We remain silent for several minutes, just breathing, relaxing through her aftercare.

“How do you feel?” I finally ask her. I brush damp hairs from her brow.

“Like…melted butter.” Her voice sounds so sated and drowsy from our sex that I can’t help but crow internally.

I did this to her. Me, giving in to something I hunger for, something I always thought would ruin a girl like Aubrey. I took a chance, and she responded and loved it. My chest swells and I wrap my hand around her hip to cup her belly.

“I want you to stay here. With me,” I say out of nowhere, voicing the tiny thought that has been niggling at the back of my mind. I can’t bear to let her go back to her apartment, unprotected. Unsafe.

She stiffens, and the reaction makes me start thinking of reasons on how to convince her this would be a good idea. I don’t want her to think it’s because I’m trying to control her. The truth is, I care. A lot. More than I want to admit to her. I care, and the thought of her being in danger without me there to protect her freaks me out.

“Are you going to tell me it’s for my own good?” she says in a low tone.

I draw in a slow breath and search for the right words. “I can tell you all I like what I think is good for you. But in the end, you have to make that choice for yourself. You can go to the police, of course.”

She snorts. “Right. Because they’re so responsive in these situations.”

Sad truth. God only knows how our local police would react if they knew about her connection with me, anyway. Probably give her an even harder time.

I press my forehead against the back of her head and breathe in the scent of her hair. Let myself just enjoy the feel of her satiny skin. “Aubrey, it’s not safe for you to be out there alone. I don’t want to smother you. I want to protect you from someone who is a danger to you, as you already know. Let me help you.”