He guffawed. "Aww hell, Eva, you're killin' me here."
I laughed, but then sobered, stepping off the small dais to stand by the motorcycle, putting a hand on his arm. "Why are you really here, Bax?"
His expression went equally serious. "This ain't you, princess." He gestured at the archway with its three hundred hand-cut roses, and Thomas, and the Wadsworth mansion, and then at my dress with its four-foot-long train. "I know I don't belong in this world, Eva, but...are you sure you do?"
I swallowed hard, but couldn't speak. Which was fine, because he wasn't done.
"I know I'm just a dirty redneck from the shit-end of Alaska--like your dad said--and basically a caveman, but I ain't gonna actually club you over the head and drag you off. What I will say, though, is that you should think really hard about this. Whether you really have to do this. I know I got no clue about your life, or what all these fuckers have on you to be forcin' you into this--or if they even are, because I mean, maybe you're marrying Tommy the Pussy-Boy because you want to. I dunno--"
"I'm not," I assured him.
"Well thank fuck: that means I'm not totally crazy," he said, playfully wiping imaginary sweat off his forehead and flinging it aside. "Point is, you don't want to do this, then don't do this. I ain't even sayin' you gotta be with me, I don't know if that's even...shit, if it's somethin' you could even consider in, like, a million years. I know we're different people from different worlds and all that, but...like I said, even if you don't wanna end up with me, or we try it and it doesn't work out, you deserve to live your life on your terms. Not their terms. You got class, and beauty, and talent, babe. You could be somethin' in this world. With me, without me, you oughta at least give yourself the gift of checkin' out what you got to offer the world, naw'm'sayin'?"
He was so scared, right now. I could tell by the way he was talking; by the way his eyes never wavered from mine. He was the kind of man who would ride directly toward whatever he was afraid of, and he would look it in the eyes and wouldn't look away, no matter what.
"Bax," I started.
He held up a hand. "One sec, babe. Lemme say one more thing." He sucked in a breath and let it out. "Evangeline, I just...shit--I dunno. I'm a way out for you, right here, right now. And I know you may not know how to navigate the world and shit, but you got friends out there, babe. I know you got pride, so you'd never ask, which is why I'm offering, not on my own behalf, but on the behalf my seven crazy fuckin' brothers, and on behalf of Claire, Dru, and Mara--and little Jackson Badd, who was just born about a week ago, by the way. I'm offerin' a place to crash, a chance to figure out yourself and your life on your terms. This part ain't got nothin' to do with me, okay? It's just...an open-ended offer of a place to crash with folks who think the world of you." He let out a breath, blinked hard a few times, clenched his hand into a fist, shook it out, and started again. "That's all I've got to say, Eva. So. Whaddya, say, babe? Wanna ditch this fancy shindig and go for a ride? It's only"--he checked his watch with a flick of his wrist--"sixty hours to Ketchikan, and there's whiskey waitin' when we get there. With me, or just with me...however you wanna play it, babe."
I blinked hard, sucked in a breath. It was, in a very real sense, a do-or-die decision. No do-overs, no going back, no time to have a long meandering think.
I had to decide, right then, what I wanted.
My father, Connecticut and the familiarity of the East Coast, the stuffy, stifling, stuck-up world I'd always known? Yale? Thomas...being Mrs. Haverton, the shiny trophy wife of the great and mighty Thomas Haverton?
Or Baxter Badd, who was so much I couldn't even mentally encompass all that he was.
His brothers, all seven of them, wild and vulgar and crazy and hysterical, but warm and friendly and so accepting, so giving, immediately willing to give you the shirts off their backs, willing to do battle for you, to bleed and risk death and even possibly end lives for you, willing to feed you, clothe you, and befriend you, willing take you in and shelter you, willing to listen to you and laugh and commiserate. And then there was Claire, and Dru, and Mara--she had her baby? OMG, I'd have to congratulate her, no matter what happened here--those crazy, amazing bitches. The bar. The twins and their kick-ass music. Even Alaska itself, the gorgeous scenery and the serenity and the drastically different pace and lifestyle and people...all of it.
Yeah, not much of a choice, was it?
Framed in this context, with Baxter in front of me, it was so blindingly obvious I felt almost stupid for not calling him the second I got back. But once I was dragged back here, it was just so easy to fall back into the role of the cowering, obedient good little girl I'd always been, even if that wasn't who I was inside anymore. I'd been changing steadily for a long time, realizing I wasn't happy and wasn't content to live up to their expectations and go along with their manipulative, controlling bullshit anymore, but it wasn't until I spent those magical, crazy hours in Ketchikan that I fully left the rest of my old self behind.
Evangeline, the East Coast socialite, the Good Girl...
She became Eva, the...
The version of myself I was suddenly ferociously eager to continue discovering.
I reached up and cupped his face, rubbing my thumb over his cheekbone, as he so often did to me. "Fuck this place, Bax."
"Hell yeah!" he crowed. Then, more quietly, a chagrined expression stealing over him, he tried it again more quietly. "I mean, are you sure? Not sure you'll ever be able to go back to the way things were."
I laughed. "I never could go back to the way things were, Bax. Not after you." I kissed him, softly, gently, quickly. "I'm with you."
"So..." He stared down at me, hope on his face. "You're with me, or you're with me? Just so I'm clear."
I tipped my head back and laughed. "Oh, Bax. Do I have to spell it out?"
He nodded. "Yep. Pretty much. I'm a dude, and I'm sometimes a little extra dense, even for a dude."
I snorted. "No, you're not. You graduated cum laude from Penn State. You're far from dense, Baxter." I crouched down, picked up my shoes, stuffed one each into the saddlebags of the motorcycle, grabbed his arm and stepped up onto the toe of one of his scuffed black boots--which he was wearing with his tuxedo--and swung up onto the back of the motorcycle behind him, clinging to his waist and snugging up as close to him as I could get, taking a moment to arrange the train of my dress so it wasn't in the way and wouldn't drag or catch on anything. "Does this spell it out for you?"
He rumbled a laugh. "Nope. Need it a little clearer."
I leaned forward bit his earlobe. "I'm coming with you," I murmured in his ear. "And later, I'm coming on you."
"Damn, girl. Now that's clear."
I laughed. "I'm curious--did you ever find my little surprise?"
He growled in his chest. "Last night. Came twice in a row, watching it."
"Wouldn't you know," I whispered to him, "I came twice last night, too."
"Maybe we can do some math, later, make two times two come to..." he bobbled his head back and forth as if calculating, "oh, eight or ten, maybe."
I laughed. "You're thinking a little too conservatively, Mr. Badd."
At that moment, the gathered crowd, which was now watching in stunned silent shock, and probably not a little fascination, began murmuring, as Bax and I were very obviously whispering something dirty to each other as I straddled the back of a motorcycle.
"Now see here!" Thomas stomped forward angrily. "You can't just--and she can't--" He swiveled to face my father. "Lawrence, do something. Control your daughter!"
Baxter pivoted to glance at me over his shoulder, handing me his helmet. "Hold this?"
I took it, keeping the camera pointed at Thomas as Baxter toed out the kickstand, lowered the bike down onto it, and swung off. Baxter rolled his shoulders and shook out his hands, and Thomas backed up a few steps, holding out his hands.
"No, wait, wait--" He glanced at Teddy, head of security. "DO SOMETHING! He's going to attack me!"
Tedd
y quirked an eyebrow, glanced at me, and then gave a tiny shake of his head, and all the bodyguards--who had been tensed to move--stood down, watching impassively from behind mirrored sunglasses.
Baxter halted a few feet from Thomas, shrugging his shoulders, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and shaking his hands in preparation for a fight--it was all show, meant to intimidate and scare Thomas, and it was working.
"Want a free shot, pussy-boy?" Baxter tapped his jaw. "Go for it, pop me one."
"What?" Thomas had no idea what was even going on. "What are you talking about? I'm not fighting you."
"No? Fine by me. But don't whine later on that I didn't give you a fair shot," Baxter said.
And then Baxter struck.
Bax's fist rocketed out, impacting Thomas's jaw with an audible, sickening crunch, and Thomas twisted and fell to the ground, out cold.
"Sorry, but I promised myself awhile ago that if I ever got the chance, I'd hit that fucker. Had to make good on it, y'know?"
I kissed his hand, tasting blood. "He's deserved that and more his whole life."
Bax thumbed my lips. "Ready?"
I lifted up on the footrests of the bike to kiss him. "Ready."
He kissed me, a long, slow, deep, erotic, private kiss, and then swung on in front of me, bringing the bike to life. "Put that helmet on, princess."
I ripped off the veil and tossed it aside so I could shove the helmet on, and then clutched Bax with a squeal as we tore away from the ruins of my wedding, turf spitting out from the rear wheel.
We rode for a little over an hour, and I felt exhilarated in every second of it, clinging to him, laughing as we crested hills and rounded bends, leaning into it--he had given me some basic instructions when we left the venue about how to safely ride behind him, leaning into turns and all that, and I took to it like a fish to water.
We were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by rolling fields, trees to either side about a mile or so away, no traffic in either direction for at least twenty minutes.
As we rode, I thought of the videos I'd left him. The things I'd talked about in that video, the fantasies I'd conjured up for us, and how many times I'd made myself come over the last few weeks, thinking of Bax, of doing those things to him.
I tugged at his sleeve. "Stop a minute!" I shouted.
He hauled the bike over to the shoulder and into the grass. "What's up, babe?" he asked, twisting to glance at me.
I removed the helmet, slipped off the bike--careful to avoid anything that might be hot--and strode into the tall grass beside the shoulder, stretching my muscles. "I just need a break."
Which was true, as I was cramping and chafing from the unfamiliar position, and rattled numb from the vibration of the engine beneath me.
"First time on a bike can leave you a bit sore," he conceded.
He still had the motor running, so I approached and twisted the key to turn it off. "Mind if we just...take a quick break?"
Baxter caught some note in my voice. "Yeah? What are you thinkin', sweetheart?"
He put out the kickstand and swung off, standing in front of me, pressing his body up against mine, framing my face with his hands. I kissed him--god, did I kiss him. All I did was kiss at first, circling my arms around his neck and pressing up against him, but that was all it took. He hardened against my belly immediately, and kept hardening the longer I kissed him, more deeply with each second, kissing him until there was absolutely no doubt left as to how I felt.
When I finally broke away, he breathed out with a shudder. "Damn, Eva."
"I needed that," I said.
"Me too," Bax rumbled. "Me fuckin' too."
"I've been so alone, I was going crazy." I rubbed his chest, feeling his hard muscles under my hands, my libido a boiling cauldron inside me. "I missed you."
"Missed you too, babe."
Curiosity ruled me, for a moment. "You did?"
He chuckled. "No, babe, I did not so much as look at another person the last few weeks." He laughed again, rubbing the side of my arm. "Shit, honey, I didn't even find what you'd left for me until last night."
"You didn't?"
He shook his head. "I was too upset from missing you and hating that I'd let you leave to even think about that. Didn't even touch myself the whole time."
"But you saw the photos and videos last night, though?" I gazed up at him, letting myself sound every bit as breathy and sultry as I felt.
"Stopped for the night way out in the middle of nowhere, pitched a little tent, and camped out under the stars. Got lonely, thought about checkin' my phone to distract myself." His voice darkened to a sexy, thrilling purr. "Found your little cache of hotness."
"And?"
"And babe...that shit was incredible. The photos? Jesus, Eva. You could be a bikini model. Could also be a bikini model photographer. That shit was gold, man." He shook his head in amazement. "Wicked hot. The nudes, though? Holy fuck, honey, I could look at every nude photograph ever taken, and those of you would be the hottest I've ever seen."
"And the videos?" I prompted. "What did you think about those?"
"Can't even, Eva," he bit out, grinding against me. "Just thinkin' about 'em is dangerous. Might pop, right in my fuckin' pants, just thinkin' about the one where you got yourself off."
"I thought about that every single night," I told him. "What I said in that video? About you, about what I wanted to do? I thought about that video every single night since I left you, thought about doing that stuff, and I came so hard so many times."
He growled. "Jesus, really?"
"Really." I lifted up and kissed him. "And now..." I let go and backed away a step.
"And now...what, Eva?" he asked, heated suspicion in his voice.
"And now I make that fantasy a reality."
"Oh my good goddamn, Eva. You for real right now?"
"Hell yes, I'm for real," I said. "Every last bit of it, I want to do it, right now, right here."
"On a road in the middle of the day?"
"I haven't seen a single car this entire time."
"It is a pretty remote road...not exactly the fastest route," he mused.
I laughed. "Something tells me you chose this route on purpose, hoping for something like this."
He tipped his head to one side. "Might've considered the possibility in the back of my head."
"Good considering," I said, and dropped to my knees.
"You're fuckin' gorgeous, Eva," he murmured.
I reached for his pants, undoing the button and lowering the zipper. "Don't compliment me, don't ask me if I'm sure, don't tell me this about me or anything like that. Just go along with the fantasy, okay?"
"This ain't fantasy, Eva. This is reality."
"I know," I said. "That's the best part."
With his trousers undone, his cock bulged out. I reached up behind myself and tugged down the zipper of my dress and pulled it forward and off, so I was naked from the waist up--for him, but also for me, because I got a thrill from the daring of it.
"Ho-ly fuck."
I grinned, and yanked his trousers down, and his underwear. "Take off your shirt. I want to see more of you."
He ripped off the coat and tie, unbuttoned a few shirt buttons and tugged it up over his head. "That better?"
His trousers and underwear were around his ankles, and he was naked the rest of the way up, all on display for me. "Perfect."
And then...
I grabbed his cock.
Slid both hands around him and spent a while just touching him, re-familiarizing myself with the glorious magnificence of his cock. Stroked and caressed him, the head, the shaft, his heavy balls, all over, until he was moaning in his throat. I gazed up at him, nerves jangling through me. I licked my lips, opened my mouth, sighing nervously as I lowered my face toward him.
"Eva--" he murmured. I took him into my mouth, and he groaned, a long, low rolling sound. "Goddamn, Eva. Goddamn."
I smiled, or tried to, in pride at the raggedness of
his voice. I say I tried to smile, but with his dick in my mouth, smiling was impossible, because my jaw was levered open to the max, lips stretched to accommodate his massiveness.
I spent a long, long time, then, reenacting everything I'd visualized and fantasized about sucking this incredible man's incredible cock. I knew he'd make me scream later, and I knew he'd show me sweetness and roughness and everything in between.
This wasn't about that.
This was about me.
Taking what I wanted for myself.
I went slow, learning the feel of him, learning how to keep my teeth off him, how to angle to take more of him--learning that the feel of him sliding down my throat was a thrillingly frightening rush as I fought the urge to gag, opening my throat and breathing through my nose. I used my hands, stroking him. I used my mouth all over him, along the sides, on his balls. I used my tongue, licking every delicious inch.
I gloried in his cock.
Drowned myself in it.
Felt the wind on my breasts, stole glances up at him, and at the blue sky and the road, and shuddered in excitement at the thought that someone might drive by at any moment.
I learned the erotic thrill of the way he responded, the grunts when I took him into my throat, the soft moans when I licked him, the breathy inhalations when I tongued the slit at the top, the long snarl when I bobbed, slowly taking more and more and more.
I felt his stomach tighten, felt his hips flexing. His hands buried in my hair, gathered it up on the top of my head.
He was close.
Eagerness zinged through me, but I resisted the urge to hurry him to the end. I kept dragging it out, switching from one thing to another until he was groaning and grunting and all those other yummy, erotic noises nonstop, and his hips were flexing, shoving his cock at me.
"Fuck--fuck," he grumbled. "Can't...can't hold out any longer, babe. Been tryin' to hold it, to feel this for as long as you're willin' to do it. But I gotta come, honey. I fuckin'--I gotta come soon."
I was willing to do this as long as he could hold out, and longer. I enjoyed this. I'd heard a lot of girls at school talking about doing this, and how they did it for various reasons. Some because they knew the guy liked it, some only if they had to, some because he'd go down on them if they went down on him, some blatantly said it was to get him into a receptive mindset so he'd do things for them, and other said they flat out hated it--I understood all of that except the last one--and only a very few said they genuinely enjoyed doing it.
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