Bad Romance

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Bad Romance Page 11

by Jen McLaughlin


  I shook my head, desperate, still holding on to the wheel with both thumbs. One slipped off. “I could make you feel good for a night—but there’s no future for us. We both know that.”

  “Then I’ll take the night.” She tugged on her hair and licked her lips. I couldn’t look away from the wet trail her tongue left behind. “And maybe the night after, too.”

  I turned on her, fire scorching through my veins. A fire that had nothing to do with anger, and everything to do with the woman sitting beside me. “You’re practically engaged, Lilly.” I growled a little bit. I couldn’t help it. “What if you don’t find a way out? Don’t you feel bad, messing around behind the guy’s back?”

  Her hand left my arm, and she pressed it to her chest. “It’s not…we wouldn’t…he doesn’t…he’s never…” She broke off. “Never mind. Just forget it.”

  Fumbling for the door handle, she threw the door open and tried to slide out, but I caught her arm. I had a feeling if I held on much longer, I wouldn’t want to let go. “Finish that damn sentence. He never what?”

  “I said forget it.”

  And then it clicked. She wanted to get in my pants because the man she was supposed to marry was no good at getting in hers. Maybe he didn’t give her enough. Or maybe he sucked. Or, hell, maybe he was sleeping around, too.

  For whatever the reason, she obviously felt justified in her actions.

  “You kept talking about going home with strangers, but I couldn’t figure out why you’d do that. But I understand why now. I get it.” I loosened my hold on her, but didn’t let go. “He’s no good in bed. That’s the issue, right?”

  She let out a harsh laugh. “God.”

  “It’s fine. I get it.” I ran my thumb over her soft, warm skin. “You want to have fun before dedicating yourself to a lifetime of boring sex. I would do the same. But I can’t be just a fun-time guy. You can’t forget me after I’m gone. We’re always going to be in each other’s lives.”

  “Funny, because this is the first time I’ve seen you in seven years. I didn’t realize you were sticking around this time.”

  “I don’t know that I am,” I admitted.

  She closed her eyes, dropping the back of her head against the seat. “You’re such a—there are no other guys. It’s just you. It’s…it’s…it’s always been you. I want us to get naked together, and I refuse to be ashamed about it. But don’t mistake my desire for you as a desire to get naked with anyone. It’s you. Only you.”

  With that, she jerked her arm free and bolted for the front door, not looking back at me even once. Meanwhile, I couldn’t look away from her retreating form. She’d just admitted she wanted me—me—and wasn’t ashamed of it. And why should she be?

  She was a grown-ass woman. And we weren’t blood.

  If she wanted to have sex with me, who the hell was I to tell her no? If she wanted to run her soft hands all over my body and make me feel good for the first time in years, why the hell should I refuse? Though a lot of people assumed otherwise, I wasn’t the type to sleep around, flitting from one woman to another. I could count the number of women I’ve had on one hand, and I didn’t sleep with someone lightly.

  But what the hell ever. It’d been a long time since I let myself succumb to lust—years, even—and if I was going to do it with someone, why not Lilly? She’d made her choice…

  Time to make mine.

  Chapter 10

  Lilly

  I stumbled up the walkway blindly, tripping over the spot where one stone was slightly higher than the others. Not because I was drunk or anything. I wasn’t. I hadn’t lied about that. But I was off balance because Jackson kept asking those intimate questions and acting as if he wanted me as badly as I wanted him, but when I answered his questions honestly…he froze up.

  Didn’t take action.

  It was infuriating. Annoying. Aggravating. Torturous. I could go on and on, describing all the ways that Jackson Worthington made me feel, and none of them were good. Not unless he was on top of me, and his hands were on me—but that didn’t seem as though it would happen again anytime soon.

  I needed to get inside the house, run up to my room, and lock my bedroom door. Shut him, and this whole mess, behind me. Unfortunately, my purse was still in the car with Jackson. The purse with the keys to the front door in it. I didn’t realize this until I got to the porch, and there was no way I was going back there. No way I was looking him in the eye after I admitted he was the only man I wanted.

  I could sleep outside. Camp under the stars. Commune with nature until the earth did me a favor and swallowed me whole. Anything to escape going back to him.

  Turning around, I prepared to make myself scarce before he could notice, but instead, I gasped and slammed my back against the door. Jackson was two seconds from me, stalking toward me with heat blazing in those brown eyes of his. His stride was purposeful. Determined. Hard. Only thing was, I couldn’t tell if he was about to kiss me, kill me…or both.

  Resting my back against the door for support, I held on to the knob and forced words to escape before he came too close. “Jackson, I—”

  “Shut up. Just shut up.”

  His hand snaked around the nape of my neck. The other splayed across my lower back and hauled me against his chest. I barely had time to inhale before his mouth was on mine, and he was literally stealing my breath away as if he intended to take it all, and never give it back.

  And I let him.

  He held me so close, his zipper dug into my soft belly, and his fingers dug into the top of my butt, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was here and kissing me as if he’d never stop. I certainly wasn’t going to take that for granted. I nipped at his lower lip and sucked on it to ease the sting.

  Growling low in his throat, I was caged by his body, and I had no desire to escape. It didn’t matter, as long as he kept kissing and touching me as if I was all he’d ever wished for. I curled my hands into his shirt, holding on for dear life.

  And I had no intention of letting go.

  Not till this crazy ride was over.

  Reaching behind me, he opened the door and backed me through it, his mouth ravaging mine as we walked in. The second it was closed behind us, the keys hit the floor with a soft jangle, and he broke the kiss to haul me over his shoulder again. I cried out, more from the abrupt change of equilibrium, and held on as he climbed the stairs.

  Instead of going to his room, he went into mine, hesitating in the doorway. He’d never been in here before, so he was more than likely just taking it all in, but it still sent a shaft of fear splicing through the thick lust between us. If he backed down now…

  There wouldn’t be enough alcohol and dancing in the world to dull that pain.

  I lifted my head, scanning the all-too-familiar room, trying to see through his eyes. Light green walls, tan carpet, two windows, and my own bathroom. Big king-size bed with a yellow-and-blue comforter—my head was the only one that had ever touched those super comfortable pillows—and a huge armoire with a matching vanity on the other wall.

  Not a lot of personality, but better than a cramped dorm room, at least according to Daddy. And I hadn’t moved out since, not even after graduating. It wasn’t home, or mine, but it was a house. The only thing in this room I wanted to claim ownership of was him, but he still hadn’t moved.

  He just stood there, holding me on his shoulder, staring at my bedroom as if it were a war zone instead of the room where my bed lived.

  “Jackson…please.”

  My voice seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he’d been stuck in, for better or for worse. His hand tightened on my thigh, and he let out a breath. “Please what? Put you down? Take you? Leave?”

  I shook my head at that last one, even though he couldn’t see me. “Take me.”

  Without a word, he walked over to my bed and dumped me onto it. The second I hit the mattress, still bouncing slightly, he was on top of me, settling between my legs—not giving me time to
wonder if he would follow through or not.

  It was bliss. Pure bliss.

  He lowered his face to mine, stopping just shy of kissing me. I held my breath, knowing everything was about to change. Everything. All because of him. “I’m done fighting. Done denying us something we both want. There’s no going back now.”

  “I don’t want you to fight it.” I locked my legs around his waist, refusing to let go. If he left me now, I just might die. “I never asked you to.”

  “I know, but I was trying to do the right thing.” He slid a hand under my butt, cupping me tightly. “Now, though, it’s time to be wrong.”

  I moaned. I couldn’t help it.

  “Christ, those sounds you make will kill me, Lilly.” He kissed the base of my throat, nipping the skin lightly. “Every sound you make drives me closer to the edge, and I’m already staring down into the abyss. Jerking off last night did nothing to ease the ache you left behind. I tried again this morning, when I heard you in the shower, knowing you were wet and naked only a few feet away. If I hadn’t, I would have walked right in there and taken you against the wall.” He grabbed my hand and pressed it against his erection. “But it did nothing to make this go away, damn it.”

  Swallowing back another moan, I skimmed my hands down his hard length and took a deep breath. Learned the contours of his body by touch and smell. “Is it wrong that this makes me happy? Knowing you need me to fix this?”

  He chuckled, and it was hands-down the most erotic laugh I’d ever heard. “Be happy about it all you want….” He bit my shoulder and pressed his erection against my palm. “But you’re gonna make up for it. You’re gonna do what I want tonight.”

  I nodded, my breath catching in my throat. “Anything.”

  “Oh, I love it when girls say that,” he teased, rubbing his nose against my throat. “Makes it so much more fun…”

  Before I could reply with something snarky, or get jealous of those “girls” he mentioned, he kissed me, and his tongue touched mine. All thoughts of anything but him faded, and I reached for his erection again. This time he was the one who moaned, and he deepened the kiss, pressing closer, before catching my hand and stopping my soft caresses.

  “I’m only asking you this once. Do you want to do this?” With a few deft moves, he was holding both of my hands trapped over my head with his left hand, while he undid my pants with his right. “Because if you don’t get up and walk away right now, I’m going to take you. I’m going to fuck you so hard, and so thoroughly, that you’ll never be able to look your fiancé in the eyes. Not even fifty years from now.”

  My stomach tightened, and I shook my head, not bothering to correct him about Derek not being my fiancé. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “So be it.” He caressed the curve of my cheek gently. “For tonight, you do what I say. You answer to me. And I promise you’re going to like it. But if you come back to me later and regret this…I’m going to be pissed. I don’t do regrets. Life’s too short and way too much of a bitch.”

  I nodded then shook my head, not sure how to answer. My mind was too fogged with want, and I was too distracted by the feel of being held captive by his unyielding hands. “I-I won’t.”

  “Promise me.” He regarded me, his hand still on my cheek. “I know you don’t break promises.”

  I swallowed and said, “I promise I won’t regret a single second I spend in your arms.”

  At first he didn’t move. Something flashed across his expression—something I couldn’t read—and he ran his thumb over my lower lip. “Here we go, then.”

  And his mouth was on mine again.

  This time when he kissed me, it was different.

  It was as if he’d been holding himself back. And now that he wasn’t…I might not survive the heat. Everywhere he touched, or kissed, or pressed against, was on fire, and the flames threatened to consume me. But I didn’t care.

  “Don’t move. Stay right there,” he commanded.

  He slid off me and grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head from behind in that way that men always did without a shred of modesty or hesitance. Then again, why would he when he looked like that? I already knew most of the ink on his chest fairly well, but when he undid his pants and let them hit the floor, too, I forgot to breathe.

  Like…literally. Forgot.

  All he wore was a pair of gray boxer briefs that hugged him in all the right places, and I couldn’t look away from his long, hard length. As if that wasn’t distracting enough, he had tattoos on his thighs, too. There were a bunch of numbers and dates and initials. On one leg, he had a beautiful drawing of a cross, and a woman in robes crying at its feet. It went under the boxers, so I couldn’t see the whole image.

  I couldn’t stop staring at it.

  “Pants off.”

  I blinked at him. “Huh?”

  “I said”—he unzipped my jeans—“pants off.”

  “You told me not to move earlier,” I replied, lifting my hips for him. My cheeks heated up the second my pants hit the floor. All I had on was a pair of skimpy black satin panties. At least they were sexy and not granny panties. I’d picked them out this morning to wear with him in mind, but I never expected he’d see them. “I didn’t know I was allowed now.”

  Chuckling, he picked up my foot and rested it on his shoulder. Slowly, oh so slowly, he skimmed his fingers down the length of my calf, and up the backs of my thighs. I held my breath as he approached my core, but he stopped short, teasing me. Especially since I knew what those hands could do to me.

  “Jackson. I need—”

  He shook his head and kissed me, cutting me off. “Not yet, Lilly. It’s not that easy. If I have tonight to learn your body, I want to make sure I don’t miss a thing.”

  “But—oh, my God.” I rolled my hips impatiently, groaning when he slid his hand under my thigh and caressed my butt through the satin, his fingers briefly touching my core. “Yes. Please.”

  “So sweet. So soft.” He kissed my ankle. “So delicious.”

  I nodded frantically. “Don’t you want to know if I taste that good everywhere? I’ve got a few suggestions on where you should begin your taste-test.”

  The fact that I wasn’t even embarrassed that I said that?

  Yeah. It showed how far gone I was.

  He froze before laughing. “Christ, I love your sense of humor. If nothing else, I hope Preppy Prick appreciates that about you.” As soon as he said that, he stopped laughing. “Shit. I don’t want to think about that—about him—when you’re naked in my arms. Enough talking.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “We’ll see about that.” He yanked my ankle until my butt hung off the edge of the bed, and he sank to the floor. Before I could blink, he bit down on my inner thigh. Not hard enough to leave a mark. Just enough to make me squirm. “Definitely delicious there.”

  “Jackson. I want—”

  “I know what you want.” He slid his hands under my butt and lifted me up. He nibbled a little higher on my thigh, tasting me there, too. “You taste even better higher up.”

  I grabbed the comforter beneath me tightly. “Oh, my God.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m here.”

  His tongue flicked out over my clitoris, but the satin was in the way. It didn’t stop it from feeling amazing, but after the little taste of what he could give me, I was greedy for more. And more. And more. I knew we had an expiration date: my possible marriage that was looking more and more inescapable by the moment casting a dark shadow over my future, but I was determined to soak up every moment I could of being with Jackson. I had a feeling that tonight would be the best night of my life. Ever.

  I squeezed his head with my thighs, and he slapped the side of my butt gently. I moaned and tossed my head to the side. Without a warning, he pulled back and yanked my underwear off. “Shirt has to go,” he growled. “Now.”

  I ripped it over my head, any remaining hint of shyness disappearing the second his tongue flicked over
me. By the time my bra was off, his hands closed over my breasts, and he scraped his thumbnails over my hard, aching nipples. All these feelings he brought out in me were both new and intoxicating—and addictive. If I’d known that sex would feel this good, would I have patiently waited till Derek and I were married to get some? Would I have been such a good girl?

  I didn’t know. And honestly, it didn’t matter.

  He closed his mouth over my clitoris, his tongue working magic again, and I squeezed my thighs on either side of his head. Threading my hands through his hair, I cried out his name and moved my hips around, trying to get closer to him.

  Closer to release.

  Just…closer.

  “Jackson…God…I need…I need…”

  He stopped making love to me with his mouth and pulled back, his dark, deep brown eyes locking in on me. He stared at me as if I was the only woman in the world, and in this moment…I felt like I was.

  “I told you, I know what you need.” His fingers dug into the sides of my thighs possessively. “You need me.”

  He lowered his head, flicked his tongue over me, and I was gone.

  My orgasm rocked me harder than anything had ever hit me before, and I bowed my back, my mouth falling open in a silent scream. He let my hips fall to the mattress and stood, ripping his boxers off.

  Bending down, he pulled a condom out of his pants pocket, tore it open, and rolled it on. Breathlessly, I watched his hand work over himself, unable to look away from his hard length. From my position on the bed, I could make out a thick blue vein running up the side of his shaft. When I’d explored his body earlier, I could tell he was big.

 

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