Filmed: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance (City Series Book 3)

by Hamel, B. B.

  But there he was, muscles rippling as he caught up with me.

  “Hey, dots,” he called out. I wanted to flip him off, but decided to keep it classy.

  “I told you not to talk to me,” I said, not slowing down. He matched my pace as I walked. I tried my best not to look at him but I couldn’t help it.

  “I know, but I want to say something first.”

  “I can’t stop you,” I said. Although I wished that I could.

  “I’m sorry about that shit with my dad and your mom. I’m not okay with it, but it happened. I didn’t even know about it until two days ago. I know you’re pissed—“

  I stopped in my tracks, my heart pounding. He stopped mid-sentence because of my abrupt change. I stared at his face as he turned around and stopped in front of me, confusion creeping into his expression.

  “What did I say?” he asked me.

  He said two days ago. Two days ago. I felt like my brain was in overdrive, trying to parse exactly what he had meant. I had spent the last day obsessing about the possibility of him lying to me. I was convinced that he had, and I had treated him like crap because of it.

  “You’re saying that you just found out about our parents?” I asked him.

  He nodded. “Yeah, on Sunday night.”

  “So when I asked you about my mom and your dad last week, you weren’t lying to me?”

  He looked even more confused. “What? No, not at all.”

  I let out a long, slow sigh. I felt like such an idiot. Noah hadn’t lied to me. He had found out about our parents on his own, and he had never lied to me about it. And there I was, pissed at him, yelling at him in a supply closet, all because of a misunderstanding.

  I felt like an idiot. Worse, I felt like a jerk. He hadn’t deserved it one bit. I was so quick to assume the worst in him, because everything I had found out about him suggested that I should. I mentally kicked myself for buying into the gossip and the hype before I even gave him a real chance.

  “I’m sorry Noah,” I said quietly.

  “I’m not really sure what’s going on here, dots.”

  I looked away. “I thought you lied to me about our parents. I thought you were using that to get closer to me.”

  “Would that have worked?” I felt him draw nearer.

  I looked up at him, my face flashing anger. He was grinning softly, and I shook my head.

  “No, it wouldn’t have.”

  “I guess that explains the supply closet.”

  “That was really out of line.”

  He shrugged. “I get it. Look, I’m sorry if that kiss was too much.”

  Oh god. That kiss hadn’t been too much. That kiss was perfect. I was being too much. I was so prepared to believe the worst possible scenario without even bothering to ask him.

  “That kiss wasn’t too much. Yelling at you was too much.” I felt like such a jerk.

  He laughed. “Yeah dots, that was pretty intense. You’re sexy when you get pissed, though.”

  I gave him a look then shook my head. “Can’t you ever give it a rest?”

  He stepped even closer, and then he wrapped his arms around my waist. I took a deep breath, surprised, as a flood of emotion and desire hit my core. His body was strong and firm and pressed up against mine, and it was all I had wanted all night, even when I was angry and pretending I could move on.

  “No, not when I’m around you.”

  He leaned in and kissed me hard, his lips soft but hungry against mine, and I reached up to hook my hands behind his head, returning his kiss with a passion and a desire I hadn’t known was inside of me. We kissed like that on the sidewalk, the night dark and empty around us, and I imagined there was a spotlight from the moon shining down on our entwined bodies.

  We were the only stars in the most important movie in my life. My legs began to tremble at his touch.

  He pulled away and turned toward a nearby building, reaching up and grabbing my hand to pull me along behind him. We half ran toward the wall, and he slipped us into some shadows, blocked by bushes on either side. He pressed my back against the rough brick and reached my hands above my head, holding them there and kissing my chin and neck.

  “You are so fucking sexy,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Someone might see us,” I said back.

  “Fuck that, I want you.”

  I felt his one hand roam down my chest and along my hips as his lips pressed against mine again. I felt his tongue run part my lips, and his taste flooded my mouth, perfect and spring. His other hand slipped down the front of my black jeans, deftly flicked out my button, unzipped the fly, and slid into my panties. I let out a small gasp as his rough hands found my wetness. He bit my lip, grinning, as his fingers found my spot.

  “You want me, too,” he whispered.

  “Fuck you, Noah,” I moaned into his ear, as his fingers circled my soaking core then began to work me in expert circles. It may have been true, but he was still an asshole.

  My hands dropped from above my head to link around his shoulders as his other hand reached around to cup and grab my ass as he teased my soaked mound. I briefly felt him rub the entrance then slip inside of me. I let out a low moan into his ear, and he began to kiss along my neck.

  “I want to make you come, right here,” he grunted.

  “Somebody is going to see,” I shot back, panting; pleasure ran up and down my spine. I could barely think straight. The idea that a stranger might catch Noah bringing me to orgasm with his fingers only added to the excitement, despite my protests.

  He stroked me slowly as his mouth found mine. The rough brick was hard against my back, and I could feel the thick outline of his cock pressing against my thigh. I was moaning softly, trying to stifle the sound as best I could by pressing my lips against his neck.

  “I’ve been thinking about this since I first saw you,” he whispered in my ear. I loved his voice and his lips and his fingers, all working together. My knees trembled and the muscles in my back began to tense as the pleasure built in my core.

  “Your polka dot panties have been driving me insane,” he groaned.

  I let out a gasp as he began to stroke my most sensitive spot.

  “I want you to get off right here,” he whispered again. I feel his finger press firmly against my clit.

  “Oh, shit,” I moaned back, completely lost in his body and his smell. He easily cupped my ass and squeezed, pressing my hips forward more firmly into his moving fingers, massaging my aching and soaked core.

  Suddenly, I heard voices nearby, and getting louder.

  “Someone’s coming,” I whispered franticly.

  “Better be quiet then,” he said back. I could feel his fingers slow to a mind-burning pace, but he didn’t stop. I gripped his back and bit gently down on his shoulder as he continued to work me, struggling to stay quiet. Two people walked by on the path, but neither of them noticed us hidden back in the shadows of the building. I figured we were tough to see, since we both were dressed in black. They passed by and I bit down harder.

  “Shit, dots,” he grunted in reply, beginning to work me back into a frenzy.

  I could feel the tension building, higher and harder. As the people disappeared around the corner, I let out a low moan and felt a deep, explosive release overtake me. The contrast between the strain to stay quiet, and the sudden increase in intensity pushed me over the edge. My entire body tensed, and I felt my toes curl as he continued to work me.

  “Oh god, Noah,” I whispered, coming hard. I hadn’t felt like that in a long time, and never from a guy’s hands alone. Shooting waves of pleasure rolled up and down my spine, making my head tingle white.

  Slowly, the wave of pleasure crested and dissipated, leaving my whole body in a slight glow. His pace relaxed, and then he slipped his hand from my pants.

  “You asshole, we almost got caught,” I said, hitting his chest. He grinned at me.

  “I know, and you loved it.”

  He was right, I did. Before I could gi
ve him my wittiest retort, he kissed me hard, his hands gripping my hips. He held me like that, kissing me deeply, and I could feel his hard cock pressing against me. After what felt like an hour of slow, deep making out, he pulled away. He buttoned my pants for me and zipped me back up.

  “Thanks, dick,” I said, laughing.

  “No problem, dots.”

  “You have to stop it with the dots thing.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t. That image is forever burned into my mind.”

  I blushed and smiled, then covered up my embarrassment by hitting him in the shoulder with my palm. He felt like he was made of stone, and it probably hurt me more than it hurt him.

  “Walk me home,” I said.

  “Of course. I’m a gentleman, after all.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, okay. You’re a gentleman that gets girls off in public.”

  He began to walk back out toward the pathway. “I’m a special kind of gentleman then, but a gentleman nonetheless.”

  I followed him, and as we began to head back toward my apartment, he caught my hand in his and squeezed it. I squeezed back, not sure what any of that meant, not sure where anything was going, but content in the moment, in his strong hand holding mine in the cool night air, and in the glow buzzing through my head. I wanted more of Noah, more of him, endless nights of Noah.

  Chapter Twelve

  After he walked me home, we exchanged numbers, and then he kissed me goodbye. He said he had to be somewhere early in the morning, which I guessed was why he didn’t try and come upstairs. I was glad he didn’t; things had started out in a strange place, and I wasn’t ready to rush into anything.

  Still, if he had asked, I would have said yes. I would have said yes to anything he wanted right then.

  I went up into my apartment, practically floating, and found Chris sitting on the couch staring at the television.

  “Sup girl,” Chris said as I walked in.

  “I made out with Noah,” I blurted out. I couldn’t help myself.

  Chris sat up straight, a surprised and amused look on her face.

  “No shit?” she said.

  “Yeah, seriously. I’m as surprised as you are.”

  I sat down next to her, dropping my bag by the coffee table.

  “What happened?”

  I told her the whole story, beginning with our altercation in the supply closet, and ending with a brief mention of some heavy kissing. I decided to keep the details to myself. She didn’t need to know what his fingers felt like sliding into me, making my back arch and my lips part, and the excitement I felt at almost being caught.

  When I finished, she had a weird look on her face. I couldn’t exactly read it, but it definitely wasn’t good.

  “Well, what do you think?” I prodded her.

  “I’m happy you worked it out,” she said cautiously.

  “But?”

  She sighed. “I don’t know, Lind, the whole thing is weird.”

  “How’s it weird?”

  “First he’s a total dickbag, then he’s charming and nice, then he’s a liar, and now he’s a total saint who doesn’t deserve his reputation?”

  I nodded, understanding. She had a good point. I had been all over the map with my feelings for him. If I were in her position, I would be extremely wary of whoever was pulling her heart around too.

  “All of that is my own fault, though.”

  “Yeah, that’s true. But are you ready to get involved with someone like him?”

  “I’m not really sure what’s even happening between us.”

  She nodded. “Exactly my point.”

  “I’m being careful.”

  “I know you are, and I support you no matter what. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Thanks, Chris.”

  “So, give me the details. Was he a good kisser? Huge dick?”

  “Oh my god. Enormous dick.”

  We laughed, the tension breaking. I felt a little bad that she wasn’t more excited for me, and I totally understood where she was coming from. I had been firmly in the “I hate Noah Carterson” camp just a few hours prior, and suddenly I was back to obsessing about his taste and his perfect muscles. Chris was a no-bullshit kind of person, and only wanted the best for me. I knew she’d come around eventually. I had to at least appreciate that I had someone who would tell me the truth, no matter what, even if that truth would upset me.

  As we finished talking, and Chris retreated back into her room to get back to studying, I thought more about what she had said. I realized how little I knew about Noah; he hadn’t exactly been super forthcoming about his life, aside from a few details about his dad. Plus, I felt guilty getting involved with Noah without telling my mother everything. If anyone knew more about Noah, and would be willing to tell me the truth, it was her. More than that, I needed to be up front with her about Noah. If I was going to have something with him, I needed her to be on board. It was possible she would be upset, but I wasn’t sure.

  Looking around idly at my neat and nicely decorated apartment, mainly all thanks to Chris and her impeccable taste, I decided I’d call my mom the next day and tell her everything.

  It was another warm afternoon as I made my way across campus, dodging groups of bored-looking kids talking about whatever. The night before was spent thinking about Noah’s fingers slicked up inside me, his warm breath against my neck, and how badly I wanted him to take me, right there, against the wall. I briefly wondered how many other girls he got off in public, but I immediately banished that idea from my mind. It was a waste of time and energy to get into that obsession spiral. My heart began to hammer as I thought about what I’d say to him when I saw him in class.

  I walked into the building and crossed the lobby. Old green and brown chairs were lined up against the walls, obviously unchanged since the 70s. I found the stairwell and started to climb, my nervousness mounting with each step.

  I had no clue what I was so nervous about. It was true that I hadn’t spoken to Noah since the night before, but he didn’t seem like the type to text every single girl he finger-banged the next morning. The problem was, I had no clue where I stood with him. He was a rich, arrogant asshole, and yet he seemed to have some weird interest in me. I couldn’t tell if it was because I was his next conquest, or if we really did have as much in common as I thought we did.

  Pushing through the door to my classroom, I banished all thoughts of Noah. It was time to buckle down and pay attention to the lectures. I could worry about him some other time, maybe when I didn’t have to take copious notes just to keep up with Professor Johnson’s meandering lecture style.

  As the period began, and Professor Johnson started to speak, I looked around the room. Noah was nowhere in sight, and for a brief second I was worried about him. That was irrational, but I couldn’t help it. He was usually late, but he almost always came to class eventually. Suddenly, I heard my phone vibrate in my bag. Trying to be as quiet and sneaky as possible, I reached down, unzipped the front compartment, and pulled it out.

  Noah: Dots, gotta miss class. Bring your notes to work?

  Me: Sure, is everything okay?

  Noah: All good. See you tonight.

  I put my phone away, not wanting to be completely rude, and tried to zone in on the lecture, but I couldn’t shake the nagging doubts. Was Noah skipping because he didn’t want to run into me? Frustrated, I began to double down on my efforts to take notes. I’d see him that night. Maybe then I could get a sense for what was going on.

  After class, I sat down on a bench near the bell tower, and watched people walk by for a while. It was one of my favorite things to do, people watch, especially on warm days on campus. The sheer number of different people that wandered around kept me entertained for hours; I loved having nothing to do, and doing it.

  Eventually, the crowds thinned out as the next class period started up, and I pulled out my phone. I knew my mom would be home, since it was Wednesday and she didn’t have class or office hour
s. I dialed my home number, and let it ring. The answering machine picked up.

  “Hello, hello, it’s me, your daughter, are you home?” I said, pausing. My parents were crazy and loved to screen their calls.

  The other line clicked. “Hello, daughter!” my dad said.

  “Hi, Dad. How’s it going?”

  “I’m okay, no class today?”

  “I just got out of my film history course.”

  “Great! Want to hear something interesting?”

  Inwardly, I groaned. I knew that the correct answer was always “yes,” but I also knew that would mean listening to my dad explain something he found incredibly fascinating that I didn’t care about one bit.

  “Sure Dad, what’s up?” I said. I hadn’t talked to him in a while, and I felt a little guilty about that.

  “Well, did you know...” He launched into a story about classical debt theory and the barter system. I spaced out about five minutes in, but kept making small noises of assent as he went on and on.

  Finally, there was a short silence on the other end. I perked up immediately.

  “Well sweetie, your mother just gave me the ‘shut up’ sign, so I guess we’re done. Want to talk to her?”

  “Sure Dad, thanks,” I said.

  I heard some muffled noises as he handed the phone over to my mom. I felt a little guilty that I hadn’t paid much attention, but he could be pretty oblivious. We didn’t have a bad relationship, in all honesty, but it was more like we didn’t have a relationship at all. He mostly kept to himself, worked on his books, and loved to hear himself talk.

  “Hi, Linda,” my mom said.

  “Hey, Mom, how are you?”

  “Oh I’m good. Sorry about your dad.”

  I laughed. “It’s okay. Did he just read a book or something?”

  “How can you tell?”

  “I was starting to think he took up economics without anyone noticing.”

  “That would be the day.”

  I laughed again, and felt immediately better. My mom had a knack for identifying and pointing out exactly when we’re all being absurd, and my dad was no exception.

  “So, I wanted to ask you something,” I said, suddenly feeling nervous.