So Bad (Bad Boy Next Door #1) (9 page)

I thrust again and again, my balls slapping her sweet little
asshole. God. She’s so much more than what I anticipated. My body freezes as my
heart opens wide, letting all the emotion I’ve had bottled up for this
beautiful creature flow through me. The backs of my eyes prickle.

She whispers. “What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

Her words snap me back to the moment. I slide back inside
her. “No, Sweets, nothing’s wrong. Nothing will ever be wrong again.”

I thrust deeper and harder until she pants in my ear. I’m at
the edge of paradise, but I hold back until she can fall with me.

Soon, she’s yanking me to her as fast as I pull away. She’s
killing me.

“Fuck. I’m going to come.”

“God, yes, please. Please, deep—come deep inside.”

I slam into her again and again, still holding back. Her
cunt clenches tight on my cock, and that’s it. I can’t wait any longer. I throw
my head back and thrust so hard my bones seem to knock against hers. She grabs
me around the waist, arches her back. Her tits press against me, and she lets
out this noise—a cry and a whimper at the same time.

Fuck, that’s hot. And I’m gone. My cock spasms as her pussy
convulses around me. My cum floods her, and I push deeper still. Her body milks
mine until I don’t have a drop left.

I collapse on top of her.

Our breathing is heavy and we’re both a little sweaty, but
it’s fucking awesome. I rise and push the hair out of her face. “You okay?”

Her mouth is swollen from my kisses. She nods and her eyes
soften just before she closes them.

I push deeper into her body, not wanting this to end. I
nuzzle her neck and kiss the place her pulse thrums, sucking a bit. “You’re
beautiful.”

She catches her breath and holds it for a second or two, and
then she lets it out slowly. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

My gut sinks. Does she think she’s just one of the girls?

How many have there been? Countless. None of them have ever
made me feel the things Mo does. Not one. Not even close.

I kiss her softly. “Not after. Only you.”

She pushes at my arms. “After sex? You only tell them
they’re beautiful
before
sex?”

“No one will ever be beautiful again, not
after you
. Only
you.”

She rolls to the side, away from me. “You need to go, Danny.
You got what you wanted. We agreed to keep this real. Please lock up on your
way out.”

Mo closes the door before I can pull an answer from the
jumble of protests bottlenecking in my throat.

Fuck.

Fuck.

And double FUCK.

I lean against the bathroom door and don’t come out until
the front door clicks into place.

This madness has to stop. Danny loves my body as though he loves
me, and I don’t know if my heart can tell the difference. The problem is, when
he comes back again, I won’t be able to turn him down. There’s no way.

My hair’s disheveled and my cheeks are ruddy. I look deep
into my own eyes, searching for an answer to these things I feel and can’t
explain, even to myself.

When he came—when
we
came, oh my lord, it was the
most perfect moment, as though at that second everything was right in the
world. And when I was in his arms, I felt safe. Not as though protected from a
burglar, but it’s as though there’s no war, no sickness, no death that can
touch me.

How can I feel like this about someone so bad? He’s a mess.
He’s rotten to his parents. Rude to me most of the time. He obviously just
wants a piece of ass, though I still can’t figure out why
me
. Must be because
he knows it will get under his parents’ skin. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t want
to hide it. I’m just one more way for him to aggravate them.

If he tells them, I’m done. I may not be able to resist him,
but if he breathes a word of it to anyone, and I get kicked out, I’ll never
speak to him again.

My shoulders slump. I might as well pack my bags. If he’s in
this to stick it to his parents, it won’t take him long to rub it their faces,
and I’ll be toast.

I brush my teeth and slip between my sheets, still naked. Each
time I move, the scent of sex wafts around me. Danny invades my every thought.
The way he kissed me until my toes curled. His body covering mine as he filled
me. The words he whispered—even though my head knows they don’t mean a thing,
my heart beats faster nonetheless.

I am so screwed.

I lie in bed as the sun takes its sweet time coming up.

Fuck if I could sleep last night. How the hell does she get
to me so damned much? Shouldn’t she just say
thank you
when I pay her a
compliment? Why does she automatically think I’m lying?

I drag my ass out of bed and head down to the pool.

The water is cool in the gray light of morning. My body
slices through the surface like memories from last night cut through my brain.
The harder I swim, the more I think about how fast my heart beat against hers
and how Mo came apart in my arms.

Then her comments skip back through my mind.

Fucking wild oats.

I push through the water, but it doesn’t matter how fast I
go, I can’t get away from the fact that she considers me a
wild oat
to
be sown and nothing more.

Fine. She wants wild? I’ll give her wild.

She wants to sow oats? We’ll sow some fucking oats.

*

She comes out of the coffee shop, carrying her books close
to her chest. I step up to her from behind, bumping her shoulder as I sync my
steps with hers.

She stops. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I just thought you might have time to spend with your fuck
buddy.”

She frowns. “Fuck buddy?”

My smile spreads. “Ha. I got you to say it!”

“Got me to say what?” Her expression is puzzled, but only
for a second. “Oh.
That
. Well, see? You were wrong. I do have
fuck
in my vocabulary.”

I take her books. “Want to sow some oats?”

She heads toward her car. “You drove all the way across town
to ask me that?”

“Sure, why not? That’s what we’re doing together right? Just
having fun? I’m horny as hell, and since you weren’t home, I came to find you.”

“You are so ridiculously bad. Seriously, you think I’m going
to work in a fuck buddy break in the middle of my day, because you show up and
tell me you’re in the mood?” She unlocks her car and takes her books from me,
tossing them into the passenger seat.

I push the hair out of her troubled eyes. “I could take you
to lunch first if that would make it better.”

“You’re a pig.”

I shrug. “Maybe.”

“You’re a real piece of work, Danny.”

I grab her hand and lace my fingers through hers, pulling
her to me as my other arm goes around her waist. My heart rate speeds when I touch
her. I lean in and whisper in her ear. “Then just have lunch with me. I’ll
settle for lunch.”

Her body relaxes against me. “Lunch? That’s all?”

I brush her mouth with mine. “Lunch, and maybe a kiss or
two. Just to tide me over until you get home later.”

She licks her lips. “Lunch. That’s it. No
later
.”

I squeeze her hand. “We’ll discuss
later
later.”

With a shake of her head she extricates herself from my hold
and locks her car. “Where to?”

*

I pull out her chair.

Mo gives me side-eyes, as though she thinks I’m joking.

I nod. “I’m not going to snatch it out from under you.
Promise.”

We sit and she nibbles at the tortilla chips and salsa, taking
in everything in the restaurant—or she might be avoiding looking at me.

I take her hand and she tries to pull away, but I hang on. I
smooth my palm over her knuckles. “So, what classes are you taking?”

She frowns. “Small talk? Really?”

Fuck. I can’t win.

I turn her hand over, kissing the underside of her wrist.
“Well, if you don’t want small talk, and since I’m not getting laid for lunch,
I could just tell you exactly what I’m going to do to you
later
. First, I’m
going to sneak into your place after dark, and then I’ll crawl into your bed—”

“Stop. Just—no.”

I lay my mouth on her palm and kiss it. “Or, you can tell me
about you—something I don’t already know.”

She pulls her hand away and tears a strip off the edge of
her paper napkin. “Something you don’t know? I have no idea what you do or don’t
know. I imagine Rach tells you most things. You tell me something about you first.”

“Okay. Ask.”

“Why do you have that giant panther tattooed on your back?”

“Ah, the cat. Well, first off, I was drunk.” I chuckle. “All
the best stories start with ‘I was drunk’, don’t they?”

Mo quirks an eyebrow.

“Anyway, panthers symbolize power and strength, and the
ability to make one’s own decisions. That’s my goal, to get to a place where I make
all my own decisions and don’t take shit off anyone.” My dad, particularly, but
I won’t tell Mo that.

She cocks her head and studies me. “You do seem to do your
own thing. All right, what do you want to know?”

“I want to know it all. Tell me anything.”

“Okay. Here’s something I didn’t even know about me until
recently. I have a sister.”

I pull back. “A sister? I did
not
know that. Tell me
about this sister. Is she as hot as you? And where have you been hiding her?”

That sweet pink shades her cheeks. “I haven’t met her yet.
Apparently my wonderful father felt the need to abandon more than just one
kid.”

Oh. “Bitter much?”

“About my dad? No. I won’t let him have that kind of power.
He’s nothing to me.”

I get that. “So, how old is she?”

“Five. Her name’s Cassie.”

*

By the time lunch is over, Mo seems more relaxed, less ready
to bolt if I say the wrong thing; at least I hope that’s the case.

We step into the sun and I hook her pinky with mine. “So,
what are you off to do?”

“I’m going to the shelter. I help out with the kids sometimes.”

“I’ll go with you.”

She stops short, shaking her head. “Maybe not such a great
idea.”

I smooth the crease between her brows with my thumb. “Why
not? I can volunteer too, the shelter
is
run by my dad’s ministry.
Honestly, I probably should’ve volunteered before now.”

She tosses me a skeptical look. “No. Not seeing it.”

Really? “You don’t think I’d do something nice for someone
else?”

“I just think taking you there would be—not the most judicious
thing. I mean, these women, some of them have been through a lot—with men.
Others, well, they have issues. And, sorry, Danny, but you’re
you
. You
kinda go through girls like frat boys go through bottles of beer. One after
another. The last thing we should do is take you to a brewery.”

Well, that explains a lot about the way she sees me.

I throw my hand over my heart. “Wow. You really know how to
hurt a guy.”

She shrugs. “Just sayin’.”

I lean in close and drop a kiss on her temple. “Tell you
what—let me hang out with you and the kids, and I’ll show you I’m capable of
not flirting with any of the ladies.”

She narrows her eyes, and her mouth hardens. “I don’t care
if you do want to get back at your dad; you embarrass me, Jennings, and I’ll
have your ass.”

*

I’m not really sure how I thought it’d be, but the shelter isn’t
what I expected. I guess I’m surprised it’s not more run down, more desperate.
But of course, Dad couldn’t have anything like that connected with his name.

Once I’m checked in, they have a copy of my driver’s
license, and I’ve been given the whole
you aren’t allowed to work with the
kids until your background check comes through
spiel—apparently it doesn’t
matter who my dad is—I follow Mo down a corridor.

The hall is lined with photos of the ministry’s benefactors
and those who support the shelter. Right smack in the middle of the wall is a huge
painting of Jesus. Parked next to it hangs an equally large photo of my dad.
His hair perfectly combed to the side, his wolfish grin concealed behind the
million dollar smile he gives to the world. His teeth gleam as much as the
white linoleum squares lining the hallway, reflecting the fluorescent lights
overhead. Makes me sick. My gaze flits to my shoes.

Not sure I’ve ever seen a floor so clean—hate to be the poor
bastard who has to keep it maintained.

The buffer vibrates under my hands.

Burn it and buff it. That’s what the guy said. Use the coarse
pad to heat the wax already on the floor, and then buff using the softer pad to
make it shine.

Guess I’m the poor bastard shining the floors today. Before
that, I was the guy who swept and mopped. Yesterday I was the one who cleaned
bathrooms and restocked shelves in the pantry. The day before that, I unloaded
a box truck of donated clothing and paper goods. I’ve never seen so many rolls
of toilet tissue in all my life.

This isn’t what I thought I was volunteering to do. But
maybe Mo will see I’m not just all about a piece of ass. Okay, I
am
all
about a piece of ass, but I want a particular piece, and if this is what I have
to do to get more of it, then I will.

Every once in a while I get a glimpse of Mo as she walks this
kid or that down the hall from one place to another. The most I get from her is
a half-smile. Somehow she’s managed to avoid me altogether at home.

I guide the buffer back and forth, back and forth, gliding
over the linoleum tiles, watching the door Mo went through earlier. When
someone taps my shoulder, I flip the switch, turning off the machine.

A petite girl with huge brown eyes smiles up at me. She
throws herself against me. “So, I’ve been nominated to find out your name.
We’ve been watching you.”

What the fuck? I back up, but she stays with me.

She slides her hands under my shirt. “I’m Roxie. Want to
take me out for a drink or
something
?”

I grab Roxie’s wrists through my shirt before she gets them
to my pecs. The door I’ve been keeping an eye on opens and Mo walks into the
corridor. Her eyes zero in on me—and Roxie.

Mo mouths something.
Beer.

Ah, fuck.

I slide sideways out of Roxie’s hold and tuck my fingers into
my front pockets. “Thanks. Really. But I can’t.”

I try not to be rude, but Roxie’s lip pokes out in a pout
anyway. Normally, I’d have totally taken this chick up on her offer. But
somehow, it just isn’t as appealing as it would’ve been a few weeks ago.

Mo passes by. Under her breath, she mumbles, “Brewery.”

I jog after her.

Roxie calls, “You’re missing out.”

I shrug. “Sorry, got things to do.”

Mo pushes through the swinging doors at the end of the hall.

I catch the door as it swishes back through the opening,
following her. “So, where you headed?”

Shaking her head, she keeps walking. “Work stuff. You know,
that’s why I’m here—to work.”

I snag hold of her elbow, pulling her to a halt. “Hey, I’ve
been working. That girl approached me. Practically attacked me right there in
the hall.”

Mo turns, hands on her hips. “Yeah, because you’d never do
anything
inappropriate in a hallway where anyone might see? You forget who you’re
talking to, Danny.”

She strides away, head high, hips swaying just enough to
tease, but not so much as to be over-the-top wanton.