Faking It: A Small Town College Bad Boy Romance

by Hunter Rose

  Trace lifts his head as if reading my mind. “We have plenty of time for that later.”

  I smile, knowing Trace means it. We do have plenty of time. We have all the time in the world, because I trust Trace now. I trust him not to leave me or hurt me.

  He pushes a finger into me, bringing me back to the present. I love the way he plays with me, and I moan again once he adds another finger. “So good, Trace. Don’t stop.” My body builds and builds, searching for my climax.

  How can I ever get enough of this man? This man who comes from a different world from me. A billionaire’s son. A playboy. And I am nothing, but he makes me feel so good. Like none of that even matters.

  He keeps playing with my body, like he owns it, and I breathe out. My orgasm is close, I can feel it coming over the horizon. If Trace keeps it up, I’ll be screaming out his name soon.

  I try to keep it down though, knowing his roommates could possibly be home.

  “Come for me, you naughty little thing,” he hums out along my skin, causing goosebumps to break out along my arms.

  I love the way he calls me a naughty girl. It makes me want to be naughty just for him. I tug his head closer, grinding my body against his face, becoming greedy for him.

  And I am greedy, just for him.

  My orgasm peaks and I moan out long and hard. “Don’t stop, Trace.”

  He doesn’t let up as he continues to suck and nibble all over my heated skin. I keep moaning, my orgasm crashing down all around me, and it won’t stop. It keeps going and going, and I can feel the hint of a smile on Trace’s lips.

  “That’s right, baby,” he says once he’s nearly finished.

  My body finally explodes and then collapses, my heartbeat ramping up and then falling back down.

  I pant out, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. “You’re really good at that,” I tell him.

  His eyes slam into mine. “I really like doing that to you.”

  My body calms, and he snuggles back next to me. “That’s one way to keep me awake.” I laugh, and he pulls me in tighter against his body. “You really scared me today.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, even though we both know it wasn’t my fault.

  “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  I gaze into his eyes. “I’m glad I can stay here with you.”

  “Why don’t you try to sleep, and I will watch over you.”

  I nod, and let sleep pull me under.

  Tylenol and a glass of water are on the nightstand when I wake up the following morning. I stretch my arms over my head.

  I smile to myself as Trace enters the room with no shirt on. He really is way too good-looking. It’s almost criminal.

  “Good morning, sunshine.” As he stands there, mouth agape, his body stiffens.

  “Hi. Are you okay?” I ask.

  “God, you’re beautiful.” Closing his mouth, he sits beside me on the bed.

  “Thank you,” I murmur, blushing. He really has no idea what he does to me; how he can heat me up with just a word.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better.”

  “What did you want to do today?” he asks, snaking an arm around my waist.

  I break from his hold and stand, placing my hand on his shoulders where he sits on the bed.

  “Study?”

  “Oh please, anything but that.” He flops his body onto the bed and covers his eyes with his arms.

  I lean over him, ruffling a hand through his silky hair. I love it so much. “You should study, too. You might fail all your finals.” I laugh a little.

  “Don’t worry about me. Besides, I have something I can study.” He releases an appreciative sigh as his eyes graze my body.

  “And just what is that?” I tug his hair, bringing his face to mine.

  “You, my favorite subject.”

  I lean my head down and brush my lips against his.

  His strong hands dig deeper into my waist, and I lift my knee to rest on the bed beside him. Lifting the other knee, I straddle him as he grips me tighter, and I push him against the bed so he lies flat on his back. We unite in the art of a sensual, slow-moving kiss.

  Framing our faces with my soft, blonde curls, I deepen the kiss. He reaches up, locks a finger around my hair and tugs tight. I look into his deep eyes and rock my hips against him. In one quick instant, he twirls me around to where I’m beneath him. His eyes never leave mine, and I know he wants this.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispers.

  We spend the whole day learning everything we can about each other physically. He knows how to make me crumble at his touch.

  My phone rings a while later. It is my little sister, Marcie.

  “Hey, do any of your friends know where Eric might be?” I ask with a worried tone. It’s been so long since I’ve talked to my little sister.

  “Just that he is out of state. We can’t even find out which state,” she says with the same worried tone in her voice.

  “Do you know where?” I ask, even though it’s most likely a long shot.

  “No, sorry. I wish I could be more help, Ness.” Concern is evident in her voice.

  “It’s okay, Marcie. Thanks.”

  We hang up after chit-chatting about how things are going. Trace has started to investigate Eric’s parents and church on Google. There’s a church website, but no information that helps us. Where can he be? Can he possibly be down here in Florida? Stalking me?

  I can’t think about anything but Eric and all the pain he caused me. My mood depresses, and Trace grabs my arm, lightly.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, running a finger along my arm.

  I look into his eyes as he leans in and kisses my forehead. “I’m just thinking.”

  “What have I told you about that?” He smiles next to me on the bed, then wraps his arms around me as we return to looking at the computer.

  “What? That it’s bad for my health?”

  “Exactly. Let me worry about Eric or whoever is doing this. You just focus on your schoolwork. You don’t need this asshole ruining your grades.”

  19

  Trace

  Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Roberts,” I say, shaking his hand. My father will be happy I’m finally going over the last of the details for the summer internship. I glance down at our hands as we say goodbye, and can’t help but notice a nasty scratch on his wrist, right by his watch.

  “That must have hurt,” I say.

  “Damn wife’s cat,” he says with a laugh. “I want to put it down, but she loves that thing.”

  I laugh. “Have a great day, sir.” I leave his office in a hurry so I can follow Jordan to his final class for his exams. It’s finals week, and I have been busy following Jordan from class to class and then back to his house, while Vanessa is in school. Now, don’t get me wrong, I have finals this week, too, but my main priority is Vanessa’s safety. I just try to balance keeping her safe with passing my exams.

  Vanessa has been staying with me through the week. We have settled into a nice little routine, and I enjoy having her around. I like taking care of her. She hasn’t received any more letters; I did find one on my windshield after taking a test one day, though. I haven’t told her about it yet; I don’t want to distract her from her studies. The note said the same thing it always does: ‘leave her alone’. Like hell I’ll leave her alone.

  Waiting for Vanessa to get out of her last class of the week, I watch Jordan cross the parking lot. He is on the phone, and I want to march over there and figure him out. He’s in a hurry as he rushes to his truck.

  Just then, Vanessa opens my car door and startles me.

  “Hey there, sexy,” she says, sliding her sweet ass into the seat.

  “Hey, buckle up. I have a hunch. We’re gonna follow Jordan.” I start the engine and head out of the parking lot in search of his red truck.

  “But I thought we ruled him out. He had no marks on his wrist,” she says, buckling her seatbelt.


  “There is something I don’t trust about him. Has he ever told you anything about himself? Like where he is from or anything?”

  She closes her eyes as I race down the road. I see the truck turning left just up ahead and press the accelerator.

  “Nothing really. Just that he lives somewhere in West Palm Beach. I’ve never been to his apartment. He’s always been very secretive about where he lives. Embarrassed, perhaps.”

  “Oh, well, I know where he lives.”

  “What are you thinking, Trace?”

  “Nothing quite yet.” My head is spinning, wondering if Jordan and Eric know each other. Has Jordan always lived in South Florida?

  “Oh,” she says, glancing out the window. I’m behind Jordan but not too close, as I follow his truck down the road. Knowing where he lives allows me to hang back a bit so as not to be seen.

  “Does he live with anyone? Roommate? Parents?”

  “Just his cousin, who he says is an ass.” She glances at the passing scenery and turns in her seat to face me. “Do you think Eric is related to Jordan?”

  “I don’t know. It’s possible.”

  “No way. There is no way they are related.” She laughs.

  “How did you two meet?”

  “In class,” she answers, focusing her attention out of the window.

  “Has he always lived in Florida?” I ask.

  “I . . . I don’t know,” she stammers, looking toward Jordan’s vehicle as he pulls into a parking spot. When we arrive at the apartment complex, Vanessa’s eyes widen.

  We park a few buildings away, just close enough to watch him. A guy stands next to Jordan’s truck as if he were expecting him. I hear Vanessa gasp next to me. “Eric?” I ask, jabbing a finger in his direction.

  Her whole body stiffens, and beads of sweat glisten on her forehead. She nods her head, never moving her eyes from him. He is tall but lanky, like Jordan. His arms swing low at his sides and, even though he is far away, I can tell he looks mean.

  I rest my hand on her shoulder, and she shivers.

  “Hey, it’s okay. He can’t hurt you anymore,” I say, massaging my fingers into her shoulder.

  She turns in her seat to face me, and I stare into her shimmery eyes that are coated in unshed tears.

  “I don’t know. Something isn’t right,” she says, shaking her head as she puts her hand over her eyes.

  “Okay, well, Eric is here. Jordan just happens to be your best friend. I don’t buy it, either. Let me ask you something. Why were you upset with Jordan on the night of the party where we met?”

  She takes a deep breath as we watch Eric and Jordan enter their apartment.

  “Jordan was telling me to move back to Ohio. He said I was stupid for moving so far away from my parents, that I was stupid for being here. He wanted me to quit school and leave.”

  “I think maybe he was trying to protect you. As much as I hate the kid, he cares about you. Maybe it’s part of why he has been following you,” I say, grabbing a flyaway piece of her hair and tucking it behind her ear. God, she is so pretty.

  “I guess. I just remember being so mad at him at the party because he wouldn’t let up.” She tucks her head lower, and I grab her chin, raising her eyes to meet mine. I caress her lips and kiss her with everything she makes me feel. I haven’t had these feelings in so long. Or ever.

  “Okay, you stay here. I’m gonna go and talk to this fucker.” I lean in and kiss her on the cheek.

  “Wait, what? Shouldn’t I go?” she asks, reaching for my hand.

  “No way am I letting you near that creep. I’d feel better if you stayed here.”

  “Wow, how noble of you, but what can he do? I want to go.”

  Releasing her hold from my arm, I look at her pouty lips and brush my lips against them, to taste her again.

  “Vanessa, please,” I beg.

  “No, I’m coming. I’m not some weak little girl whom you have to shelter. Besides, in broad daylight with people everywhere, he’d be stupid to try anything.”

  Defeated, I shrug my shoulders. “Okay, but let me do the talking.”

  She agrees, and we exit the car.

  We move as if in slow motion; our walk to the front door seems to take a lifetime. Relax, I tell myself. Relax. But my mounting frustration causes my thoughts to blank.

  I glance at Vanessa. She knocks on the door with one loud thud. The door opens, and Jordan stands there with his mouth open and eyes twitching. His cheeks redden, and his feet dance from side to side.

  “Trace, Vanessa,” he stutters, blocking the door. His eyes bounce between us as I clear my throat.

  “Hi, Jordan,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. The sun is hot on our backs, and Jordan looks as if someone’s about to tell him the world is ending. For him, maybe it is.

  “Where’s Eric?” I ask, cramming my fists in my pockets.

  Jordan’s eyes widen. “Who? What do you mean?”

  “Cut the shit, we know he’s here. Tell him to get out here,” I say, adjusting my shirt.

  Jordan moves away from the door as it opens wider. Eric comes walking through and scowls at us.

  “What the hell?” He steps past Jordan.

  “What the hell is right,” I say, sizing him up. He is an inch taller but has the body of a ten-year-old boy; gangly limbs and not an ounce of muscle. I’ve got this.

  The sun grows hotter, and, as if I’m in an old western movie about to duel in the middle of town, I stick out my chest.

  Vanessa moves behind me as Eric and I stand toe to toe.

  “We know about the notes and the stalking. We want it to stop or I’ll beat the ever-living shit outta you,” I say.

  Jordan bobs up and down behind Eric, trying to get a glimpse of the action about to go down on the front doorstep. Eric wears a thin, white tank top and crosses his arms over his chest.

  It pisses me off.

  “Oh, yeah?” He laughs, glancing past me to catch Vanessa’s eyes. “Is that so?”

  “Just please leave me alone, Eric,” she says.

  “Or what?” He leans on the doorframe, and my frustration grows.

  “Not very smart, this one,” I say, turning to Vanessa and jabbing a finger in his direction. “I just said, or I’ll kick the ever-living shit outta you.” I draw out each word, so he doesn’t get lost in any big words.

  “Fuck off. This is between me and her.” He points in Vanessa’s direction, and my face turns a bright shade of crimson. Not a chance in hell. No way will this man say anything to her.

  I raise my voice. “She said, leave her alone. Do you want me to explain it further to you, big guy?”

  Jordan pushes his way out and bounces around, his awkward limbs flying around in the air. “Eric, maybe you should just leave her alone,” he says, stepping past me to reach Vanessa. He apologizes as he tries to explain himself to her.

  “No one tells me what to do. Vanessa, can we talk?” Eric asks, uncrossing his arms.

  “Fuck no, you can’t talk to her!” I bark, letting him know I’m serious.

  Who the fuck does this guy think he is? They’re over, and he’s hurt her a fair deal. And no, he can’t talk to her.

  “There is nothing to say anymore, Eric. It’s over,” she adds, pushing away.

  “Jordan, can you take Vanessa to my car?” I ask, turning around to give him a half-smile. He has the look of pure fear in his eyes, like a dog that has taken one too many beatings.

  Jordan and Vanessa head back to the parking lot. I turn back around and see Eric still standing there, watching them walk away.

  This guy is a complete idiot. I have turned my back twice, and he still hasn’t thrown that surprise punch I’m anticipating.

  I shake my head and chuckle at the thought. He’s a real pussy who would rather hit women than fight. I look at him like the piece of shit he is, as he huffs out a breath.

  “So, what? You think roughing her up will send her running into your arms?” I laugh.

  Thi
s guy is pathetic, not a threat to me.

  “Fuck off before I leave you lying in a pile of your own blood.” He balls his hands into fists.

  The comment makes my jaw clench hard. I try to remain calm, cool, and collected.

  “What do I have to do to get you to leave her alone?” I say, shaking my head.

  “Leave her alone? We belong together. She loves me,” he says, rubbing his jaw.

  Is this guy fucking delusional? Should I just hit him and be done with it?

  I debate my options as I stare at him. He’s a complete bumbling moron. My hands rest at my sides, but I keep flexing them into fists and then releasing them. I want nothing more right now than to punch him.

  “Uh, she doesn’t, and you’re a fucking lunatic.” I try to goad him into throwing a punch my way so I can unleash my fury on him, but this guy isn’t taking the bait.

  “She will,” he says in a whiney voice.

  I become bored with his antics and try to plot out my next step.

  “Look, leave her the fuck alone. We already have police reports on everything,” I say, poking a finger in his chest.

  “Don’t touch me!” he yells.

  Ahh, here we go. The punch is coming. I know it. I lock my feet in place and bend my knees as I get ready for the blow.

  “Or what?” I ask, egging him on.

  “I know what you’re trying to do.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?” I smile.

  “You want me to hit you. But let me tell you this, when I come for you, you won’t even know it’s coming.”

  “Oh, is that a threat?” I ask, crossing my arms over my puffed-out chest.

  “Yeah, it’s a threat.”

  “Aww, you don’t know me very well then. I don’t take threats,” I say in my most cocky voice. Mockery and shenanigans can only go on for so long, but I feel as though we are going in circles calling duck, duck, goose. I know I’ll be the one calling ’goose’ and ending this shit soon. I’m over his absurdity.

  “Fuck you.” He smirks, and my anger reaches its breaking point.