So Bad (Bad Boy Next Door #1) (2 page)

Danny drove, the music played, and we talked like we always
did. That is, until he pulled into the gates at the entrance to their estate. He
stopped halfway to the house, instead of driving up the driveway. Parking in the
road and turning the lights off, he cut the engine.

After only seconds, I asked, “Why’d you stop?”

He shifted in his seat, facing me. “I want to ask you
something. Whatever you say is fine. I won’t be mad or anything.”

“Mad? About what?”

“Mo, you know I like you?”

The moon was bright on the horizon and his features were
surprisingly clear, even inside the car. His expression was different—like he
was excited and scared all at the same time.

My stomach fluttered. “Like me—
how
?”

He slid his hand over mine and pulled it out of my lap. When
his lips brushed my knuckles, the flutter in my tummy morphed into a full-on
uproar of nerves. I gasped and yanked my hand away.

He leaned back, but then closer. His warm fingers smoothed
my hair behind one ear. “Sorry. I don’t mean to make you nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.” I chewed the corner of my bottom lip
while his gaze was riveted on my mouth as though he couldn’t look away.

I swallowed. “Danny, I don’t—”

He placed the tip of his finger gently over my lower lip.
“Shush. Just—please, listen. This summer has been good. Maybe the best of my
life. With you and Rach—mostly you.”

I twisted my fingers together in my lap and nodded.

He moved toward me, his eyes intent upon mine. “I want to
kiss you, Mo. Is that okay?”

My chest filled with hope while I inhaled a shaky breath and
my hands trembled.

Danny slipped his hand to my nape, pulling me toward him.
His lips grazed the corner of my mouth. Light flooded the car.

Danny groaned. “That didn’t take long.”

Rachel knocked on Danny’s window. “Everything all right?”

My shoulders drooped, but my heart hummed a little tune.

*

As soon as I pull up outside the Jennings’ guest house—
my
house, Danny jumps from the car. I put the sunshade in the windshield while he
shuts the door.

I let out a huge breath. It’s as though I’ve held it the entire
drive. Maybe I can avoid him the whole summer. Even just for a few days would be
nice.

I turn toward my front door. He leans against it.

Crap.

Why didn’t he go up to the main house?

I ask, “What do you want?”

He lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Just thought I’d see
what you’ve got going on this afternoon.”

“I have plans. Big plans. Busy for days.”

“Oh? Who with?”

“None of your business. Why do you care anyway?” I straighten
to my full height, all five-feet and four inches, which means I’m still dwarfed
by his six-foot frame.

Danny pushes away from my door, but doesn’t move off the
tiny porch which he fills with his thickly muscled body. “Rach is worried about
you. I told her I’d make sure you’re okay without her. This is me following
through on my commitment.”

He says
commitment
like he should get a prize for
being a responsible adult.

I let out a harrumph. “I release you from your obligation to
watch out for me. I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself. Thanks.”

“Aw, now, don’t be like that. I don’t want to break a
promise to my sister. Hell, she’s the only one I keep my promises to. I have a
perfect record. Don’t go fucking it up for me.”

“Rachel isn’t here all the time. I have other friends. I’m
hanging out with them later, and I have a date after that. So, please, do your
thing. I’ll see you around. No promises will be broken.”

He doesn’t move. I push past him to the door and let myself inside.
He follows.

Great.

That first summer, after Mom passed away, Danny and I were friends—of
a sort. I thought there could be something more between us. He hung out with
Rachel and me almost all the time. He was nice back then. Something in him was
still good. He seemed to care about stuff—his future, the world, even me.

Since graduation, he’s decided I’m beneath him. And he’s made
sure I know it at every turn. Plus, he’s gotten a rap sheet for indecent
exposure and public intoxication. The paparazzi love him as he’s a never-ending
source of tabloid headlines. Almost every Hollywood starlet and famous rich-girl-wannabe
has been caught with him. I can just imagine the angina it must give his
parents. Danny’s more like a demon than the son of a big time TV preacher.

No. Danny’s not good any more.

Now, he’s—he’s just
bad
.

SO. BAD.

I saunter inside Mo’s domain. It still has the same
furniture and pictures on the walls as when she moved here. It’s like she never
really settled in. Then again, what do I know? I haven’t been through these
doors since that first summer. Not sure why I came through them now. Mostly
because she’s trying to get rid of me and I’m feeding that crazy-ass part of me
that loves fucking with her head.

She’s so damned uptight. All I want to do is get under her
skin and under her skirt. My dick stirs at the thought of what’s under that
skirt.

Does she ever go commando? Probably not. Too goody-goody for
that.

Damn, she needs a good fuck, if for no other reason than to
loosen her up.

She turns on me, glaring. “No one invited you in.”

“I don’t have to be invited. You do live on my family’s
property, in this house provided by
my
family. Seems I have the right to
go
wherever
I want,
whenever
I want.”

Mo’s tiny growl makes me smile.

She asks, “Oh, really?”

She’s so easy to mess with.

I step closer. “Yes. Really. And while we’re discussing your
living here—at
my
family’s pleasure—I’d rather you not use the pool this
summer.”

Her brow wrinkles, her eyes hard. “Why? It’s never been a
problem before.”

“Oh, it has. But with Rachel around, there was nothing I
could do about it. She’s not here this summer, so, no swimming.”

Mo throws her hands up and shakes her head. “You’ve lost your
freaking mind.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just now finding it. I’m not spending
another torturous summer watching you run around in your swimsuit.” The memory
of last year’s suit, all wet and clinging to her luscious curves, causes that ache
deep inside—an ache I can do
nothing
about.

Her jaw hardens, and she grinds her teeth. “Well I’m sorry to
have spoiled your summers. Excuse me if I’m not a stick figure, plastic doll you
can ogle.”

I want to do way more than
ogle
. “No. You’re anything
but
a stick figure, that’s for certain.”

Her pearly-pink lips part as though she’s searching for a comeback.
She presses them together, her blue eyes flashing.

She stalks to me, poking me in the chest. “Let me tell you
something, you arrogant jerk, I will do whatever
I
want, whenever
I
want. If you don’t like it you can stick it up your—your—your bung hole.”

I grab her hand, shaking my head and laughing. “My
bung
hole? You’re so uptight; you can’t even say the word ass, can you?”

Mo swings away, pulling out of my grasp, turning her back to
me. “I can say anything. I
choose
not to. Just leave already. I don’t
have the energy for this crap.”

I step behind her, sliding my finger under the strap on her
sundress. God, what I wouldn’t give to slide it down and kiss from her shoulder
over to that little birthmark on the back of her neck.

Instead, I do what I have to do. “You should probably dress
a bit more conservatively too. You don’t need to show so much skin.”

She lets out an exasperated breath, turning to me, her mouth
open enough to fill me with the urge to cover it with my own.

She says, “You’ve
got
to be kidding.”

“With my parents gone, and no Rachel here, it looks bad. And
you know my father—heaven forbid we make him look bad. It might slow down the
millions filling the coffers every week.”

She gasps. “Since when have
you
worried what your dad
thinks? It seems to me you’ve done everything you can to embarrass him and tick
him off.”

“Maybe I have. So what?”

“So
now
you’re worried about how you and I living
next door to one another looks? I mean, it’s not like we’re under the same roof
or anything.”

Thank God for
that
small favor. I’d live with a
constant hard-on. I’d probably have to go to the emergency room on a weekly
basis for having
an erection lasting more than four hours
, like they warn
about on those commercials.

Really, I only care what my dad thinks about Mo and me, and our
non-existent
relationship. And I only give a shit about him because he’s
a control freak who, at the moment, holds the keys to all of our futures. He
dictates there is no relationship.
None whatsoever
in his words.

I prop my hands at my waist. “Just do what I say and life
will be so much easier for both of us this summer.” And I won’t have to take so
many fucking cold showers.

“Can you please—just—look—there are only a few weeks until you
go back to school. I’ll stay out of your way. I’m sorry you’ve decided you hate
me, but—can’t you leave me alone?”

Hate
her?

Her words take hold of me, like a vice around my gut. They
drive me to act. I rush her, pushing her against the wall, holding her arms
above her head, my hand on her wrists.

Eyes wide, her mouth opens slightly. It’s as if she’s
begging for my kiss. Her chest heaves, rubbing those full tits against me as she
whispers, “What are you doing?”

I run my knuckles down her cheek. “This.”

And I break the rules, like I’ve wanted to do every waking hour
since I saw her two weeks ago. Hell, I’ve wanted this since that first summer
she lived here.

I skim my mouth across hers.

Damn. Sweet as hell, like cotton candy.

Claiming another taste, I slip my tongue along the seam
between her lips. When she opens on a gasp, I take full advantage and slant my
mouth over hers, delving in to savor the flavor.

I close my eyes, inhaling her summer scent, all honeysuckle
and sunshine. She squirms. I push my knee between hers and secure her with my
body, which gives me a raging fucking erection.

Moving my hips, I rub my cock against her. “Does this feel
like
hate
to you?”

She stills, her pupils dilating. A little noise at the back
of her throat, a cross between a moan and an exhale, hardens my dick even more.
Her heart thuds through her chest into mine.

I dip again and pull her lower lip into my mouth, sucking
and nipping. She leans her head back as I move closer, letting my body flatten
her on the wall. I thrust my fingers into the hair behind her ears, tangling
them there.

Her hands come to my chest and curl against my heart as she returns
my kiss. Her tongue plays along, sliding against mine, sending signals to my
cock, saying it should prepare for entry.

With my hands fisted in her silky tresses, I pull her head back
and deepen the kiss, memorizing the texture of her mouth and her sweet flavor.
When I break away both our chests heave and our breaths are short. Her lips are
swollen from my kiss—our kiss—and I want to kiss them again.

And again.

And again.

My palms skim along her sides, and I trail kisses down her
neck to her breasts. I suck one into my mouth through the cotton dress she
wears. I tongue her beaded nipple until the wet fabric lets me outline every
contour.

When I find the hem of her sundress, my hands glide up her
legs. I take possession of her mouth again as I slide my fingers under her
panties. I cup her ass, pulling her hard against my erection; it flexes in
anticipation.

Her arms loop around my neck and she looks past me,
seemingly avoiding eye contact. But she doesn’t fight me when I slip my fingers
to the middle and run them along her seam. I dip low until they flit across the
wet place at her center. She doesn’t try to escape; she just makes that sexy as
hell sound again.

I drag her closer still and wiggle the finger hovering at
her entrance as I swoop in for another long sip of sweetness, kissing her
deeper—harder. Then, taking her jaw in my hand, I force her to look at me as I
lick the taste of her off my lips.

“I don’t hate you, Mo. You just—shit…” I shake my head. Aw
hell. Fuck it. “I
want
you—God, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted
any girl. And that pisses me the fuck off.”

Danny’s words trip through my brain like clumsy drunks.
They bump into one another, making no sense. His hard-on pushes into my belly and
his eyes pull me in.

Seconds tick by, and finally his words line up to make a
sentence.

Holy crap.

Not good—not good at all.

Kissing him wasn’t very smart either.

I try to form words, but they cling to my lips, refusing to
leave my mouth. I swallow and flatten my palms on his pecs. I manage to put the
slightest pressure into my push.

Danny backs off. He hooks his thumbs into his belt loops,
studying me with a critical eye as he shakes his head. He spins on his heel and
storms out, leaving the door wide open and my jaw hanging loose.

After I put in a couple of hours volunteering at the women’s
shelter, I spent half the afternoon cleaning out my closet, scrubbing every
square inch of my bathroom, and polishing the appliances in my small kitchenette.
I even used the telescoping duster thing and got the cobwebs in the corners and
the outsides of the vents.

It didn’t matter though. No amount of bleach could wash
Danny’s words out of my mind.

God, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any girl
has
played through my brain a thousand times, maybe more.

How can that be possible? He all but told me he doesn’t like
the way I look in a swimsuit. He takes every opportunity to give me crap. He’s not
even nice to me. Aren’t guys supposed to be nice if they want a girl? Well, except
grade-school boys; I’d expect that from a fifth-grader.

*

Paul’s picking me up in five minutes. I finish applying a
bit of mascara. That and eyebrow pencil are the extent of my make-up. If I don’t
use them my eyes look bald. My platinum hair? Not from a salon.

Even though I’ve cleaned in here, I toss all my shoes out of
my closet before I manage to find the sandals that match this outfit. First
date. Shouldn’t be late for a first date. I dab on a bit of lip gloss.

Paul pulls up as I turn the key in the deadbolt.

I paste on a smile and straighten the strap on my second favorite
sundress. I threw the other one in the laundry bin after Danny left. That was right
before I took a shower because I had to wash his scent off, afraid all I’d be
able to think about all day was him.

Paul hops out and comes around to open the passenger door.
Nice. Danny wouldn’t think of doing that. I bet Danny’s dates are lucky if he
doesn’t make them ride on the back of his motorcycle. He’s going to get himself
killed on that thing.

“Did you forget something?” Paul’s voice breaks in.

“What?”

“Well, you’re just standing there.”

“Oh. No, I’m sorry. I was thinking.” Good gracious. Have to get
my mind off freaking Danny.

Paul shuts my door and comes around the car. As he buckles
up, he says, “Everything all right? You look like you could strangle someone.
Bad day?”

I cringe. “My best friend left for an African mission trip
today. Emotional day. But I’m fine.”

He puts the car into drive. “Thought I’d take you to The
Garage. It’s this new place down in The West End.”

“Sounds good.”

*

The Garage. Trendy bar. Forty-five minute wait to get in.

My stomach roars. Thank goodness the music’s so loud no one
can hear it. I hope Paul doesn’t mind a girl who eats.

I let my gaze travel around the place. Car parts and auto
racing memorabilia hang on the walls. We settle at a table in the small area to
the side of the dance floor.

Paul leans close and raises his voice. “So, you’re a
sophomore this year?”

“Junior. You?”

“Senior. Set to graduate in December.” He nods, and light bounces
off his black hair. He points to the bar. “Want something?”

“Just a soda. Thanks.”

Looks like the party’s in full swing. Lots of people
dancing, drinking, having a great time.

Paul sets my soda in front of me. His straight teeth shine in
the lights as he smiles. He tosses me a straw. I strip the wrapper off and poke
it into the icy drink.

I half empty the glass in a couple of long draws. “Thanks. I
was thirsty.”

“I hope you don’t mind. I’m going to have something with some
kick.”

An arm comes around me, pushing my soda across the table to
Paul. “Then you should be drinking this one.”

My heart ratchets up.

Seriously? This can’t be happening.

I twist in my seat. “What are
you
doing here?”

Danny smiles, his eyes sparking. “So, who’s the douche?”

Paul’s brow wrinkles, and he glares. “Dude, what’s your issue?”

“If you want something with a
kick
, take hers. Whatever
you spiked it with ought to give you a jolt.”

My chest tightens. I turn to Paul. “What did you do?”

He looks away and shakes his head. Then he jumps up, sending
his chair crashing to the floor. “Fuck you. I don’t need this shit.”

He’s not getting off that easily. I grab the drink and rush behind
him. “Hey, Paul!”

He turns and I toss the contents into his face. It splashes
off and drips down his golf shirt. Paul swipes a hand over his eyes, his mouth
a hard, thin line. His fists clench and he steps toward me.

Crap.

I brace for impact.

Danny grabs me and shoves me aside. He pulls back his fist.

Paul lunges into the punch. Maybe he doesn’t even realize
I’m not there now. One pop and he’s on his butt, rubbing his jaw.

Danny stands over him. “Didn’t your momma teach you it isn’t
nice to drug the ladies?”

Paul crab crawls backward a few feet and flips over, pushing
himself up. He shakes it off, wipes his face with the back of his arm, and threads
his way through the crowd. He doesn’t even look back.

The people in the immediate vicinity stare. Heat creeps from
my chest to the top of my head. I slink to the table and grab my purse off the
chair. It takes a few minutes to get across the bar to the ladies’ room, but I
manage to do so without looking up.

I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.

I push through the door, past the girls at the sink, to lock
myself in a stall, leaning against the cool metal. The door swishes open and the
volume rises for a moment as music floods in. Then it’s quiet.

Good. Now I can be alone in my mortification.

I inhale, hold it, count to ten, and let it out by
increments.

“So, you really know how to pick them, eh,
Moan
-uh?”

My shoulders droop in defeat and I let the rest of my breath
out in a huff.

Great. Exactly what I need.

“You followed me into the bathroom?”

He rattles my stall door. “How else are you going to say
thank you?”

I pull the latch and slip past him. “You could’ve waited
until I finished. I just needed a minute.”

His cocky grin makes me hate his face.

“Oh. I didn’t realize I’m supposed to save you
and
wait
for you. Pardon me.”

I wash my hands and splash water over my cheeks, trying to
cool the blush still burning me up.

When I raise my head I focus on the mirror. Danny stands
behind me. His gaze holds mine for the longest moment in history.

I swallow my embarrassment. “Thank you. Thank you for keeping
me from getting hurt. And for decking that jerk.” I turn to him, throwing my
hands up in question. “Happy now?”

“You’re welcome.”

And he walks out. Just like that.

There is something seriously wrong with him. There has to be.

*

The heat rises off the pavement outside The Garage. The cab
is taking forever to get here. I check my phone again, shifting my weight from foot
to foot.

“Mo! Hold up. I’ll give you a ride,” Danny calls.

I don’t have the energy to argue with him right now.

God, I’m such an idiot. I really could’ve ended up—well, who
knows what Paul had planned? If it hadn’t been for Danny—it was
Danny
of
all people who saved me from—whatever would’ve happened.

A yellow cab pulls up. I step off the curb. Déjà vu overruns
me as an arm comes around my waist. His deep voice whispers, “What are you
doing?”

I wriggle out of his hold. “What are
you
doing?”

A skinny brunette—not the hallway-screw either, a new one—runs
her hand down Danny’s forearm. “Come inside, Dan. We’re missing the fun.”

He rolls his eyes. “So, go back in.”

“But, Dan—”

Danny steps to the cab and tosses a twenty into the window.
“She’s got a ride. Thanks anyway.”

I try to grab the cab’s rear door handle, but my knuckles
drag along the smooth surface of the car’s door as I completely miss. I focus
on my fingers as though they’re attached to someone else’s hand. When I move them
in front of my face, they echo.

Can fingers echo?

The cab speeds away. “What the heck?”

“I said I’ll take you home. Come on.”

A ball of frustration gathers in my chest. “Who do you think
you are? You can’t tell me what to do.”

The chick puts her hands on her hips. “See, Dan? She must
have other plans. Come on,
I’ll
show you a good time.”

“Chrystal—Chrissie—” Danny snaps his fingers twice, glaring
at her. “Christy—whatever your damned name is, that’s enough. I told you I have
shit to take care of. We’ll catch up some other time. Or not.”

My cab’s taillights disappear down the street as I pull out my
phone to call another.

Chrystal-Chrissie-Christy pouts, but finally crosses her
arms and stalks back into the bar.

Danny snatches my phone out of my hand and hangs up on the
cab company lady who just answered. “You don’t need that. You have a ride.”

“I’m not getting on that death trap you call a bike.”

“No, you aren’t. I have my car.” He turns me toward the
parking lot.

Try as I might to stand stiff, I can’t. But that doesn’t mean
I have to go easily. “I don’t want to be alone with you.”

“Well, it’s got to be better than being on your own with Fuck-face
back there.” He drops his arm over my shoulder. “Look, Mo, I saved your ass twice
today. If I don’t get you home soon, you might end up in the hospital.”

Exhaustion spreads through me like a prelude to death. My feet
are leaded and my hands are made of clay. The concrete sucks me down like quick
sand. How did it do that?

Danny grabs me. “Oh shit, that was fast.”

He sweeps me into his arms and hikes me to his chest. He’s so
strong and his heart beats so powerfully against me.

“Why haven’t I ever listened to your heart before? It’s so—so—”

The world wobbles under my feet. Or maybe they’re Danny’s feet.
I don’t know which.