The Very Bad Fairgoods - Their Ruthless Bad Boys

by Theodora Taylor

  “Not quite as good as Josie’s chicken, huh?” I say after a while of this.

  “No, it ain’t. Next time I’m in town, maybe I’ll write your grandma about sending over a plate of her chicken. Though I hate to bother a little old lady. Maybe there’s somebody else who could make it for me…”

  I giggle. “Or you could get one of your groupies to make you some.”

  “Yeah, because that’s what blondes with fake tits are known for,” he mutters. “Being real good in the kitchen.”

  “You don’t know! Maybe all they need is a chance to prove themselves,” I answer with a laugh.

  Colin sets his empty plate aside on the coffee table. “You done eating?”

  “Long done. Why?”

  I get my answer when Colin takes me by the hand and pulls me up from the couch. “Time to keep my other promise,” he says.

  So yeah, Colin is for real a man of his word, and like a lot of musicians, good with his hands. Less than ten minutes later, I’m completely bare down below, courtesy of a pink razor he bought during the trip he took into town while I was asleep.

  When he’s done, he throws me a satisfied smile, and says, “My pussy looks good.” He cups me below, causing me to take a sharp breath, because there’s now no cushion of hair to serve as a buffer against his touch.

  His blue eyes turn dark with lust when he looks back up at me. “You want to touch my pussy?” he asks his voice low.

  I hesitate, remembering what happened the last time I tried. And not quite ready to trade in all these good feelings for what came after I disobeyed one of his commands.

  “Go ahead, you’ve got my permission to touch it this once,” he says. A magnanimous king with his possession. “I want you feel what I’m feeling when I touch you.”

  So I do. I tentatively touch myself, and find a much smoother surface now, one that’s way more sensitive to the touch. I dip a finger into my slit and easily find the button hidden within, already engorged and pulsing with desire. Apparently, getting shaved by a country superstar turns me on.

  “My pussy feels good, doesn’t it?” Colin’s dark voice says above me.

  I don’t answer. I’m too busy exploring, my fingers going deeper and deeper inside me. I should be embarrassed for myself, but his gaze only makes me that much hotter.

  I don’t get much further than that, though. Colin’s hand closes around my wrist. I think just to stop me, but then he’s turning my whole body over so I’m on my knees when he ties one of the ropes still attached to the railed headboard around both of my wrists.

  “No! No!” I say with a moan. “You said I could.”

  He’s behind me now, his hips centered right behind mine so I can feel the muscled front of his legs against the soft back of mine, and his hard length against my quivering core.

  “Calm down, Purple,” he says. “This ain’t about punishment.”

  Then he pushes into me from behind. It’s embarrassingly easy for him to do so. Not just because of the position I’m in, thighs pushed apart with my naked pussy in the air, but also because I’m soaking wet. I feel another wave of shame come over me, because just the act of getting tied down seems to turn me on beyond anything else I’ve ever known.

  “No, this ain’t about breaking the rules, Purple,” he says behind me. “This is about laying some down. Tomorrow I’ve got an afternoon flight to Ontario for the Canadian leg of my tour, and I’m not back for another few weeks, til Columbus Day weekend.”

  My heart shrinks with the reminder that our time together is limited. Which is stupid. Because of course he’s leaving Tennessee tomorrow. And I’m driving back to Alabama in order to get the house ready for Josie and Beau’s return on Monday. Still, I can’t help feeling gloomy, like something magical is coming to an end.

  “You around Columbus Day weekend?” he asks me.

  “Kind of,” I say. “That’s the last Sunday Dinner of the year, so I’ve got to help my grandma out. But I could come here after that, since I’ve got Monday off.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” He starts moving behind me, with long aching pumps. “We don’t need to have that other discussion again, right? I think you get that this pussy belongs to me?” He cups my core in that rough way of his, so I can’t possibly mistake which pussy he’s talking about.

  I nod, too mute with lust to care what I’m agreeing to.

  “Good,” he says, like I’ve passed the “sign your name” part of the test with flying colors. “And since you know this pussy is mine, I don’t have to tell you

  I’m the only one who gets to touch it while I’m on the road, right? Not anyone else. Not even you get to touch my pussy while I’m on the road, unless you have my permission. We clear on that, Purple?”

  No, we aren’t clear on that. I’ve been single too long, and he’s basically asking me to give up masturbation. Until I see him again. Whenever that is. I rally, shaking my head. “Not yours,” I mumble.

  “If you’re good and you follow the rules, I might let you touch my pussy while I’m talking to you on the phone,” he says. His voice is full of dark promise.

  I shake my head. Resisting. Trying to hold on to one shred of dignity. “Not yours.”

  And suddenly it’s no longer fun and games.

  “Do not fuck with me, Purple,” he says, driving himself into me. “I will lose my mind if I find out you’ve been with someone else while I’m on the road, so you need to tell me what I want to hear, now. ”

  I clamp my lips, refusing to answer. Afraid of him. Even more afraid of myself. It’s becoming a familiar feeling.

  My mutinous silence seems to enrage him. He yanks himself out of me and the next thing I feel is his chest blanketing my back. His body so heavy, I have no choice but to sphinx down to my elbows.

  But even that helpless physical submission isn’t enough for him. He yanks on my arms, forcing them out straight in front of me, as one large hand manacles around my bound wrists.

  “You think this is funny?” he asks me, his voice little more than a sneer. “You think I won’t zip up my pants and leave you here? Call Ginny, tell her to come untie you in a few hours? Is that what it’s going to take to make you learn your lesson about fucking with me?”

  The prospect of him leaving me tied naked to the bed scares the shit out of me. And of course, in this messed up dynamic we’ve got going, that only makes my pussy quiver more. I can feel it clenching in and out in a thirsty search for Colin’s cock, which is pressed against my backside.

  I have never wanted to give in to something the way I want to give in to this. But the one part of me that isn’t completely gone with lust has a question. One I have to ask. “How about you?”

  “What?”

  I turn my head toward the sound of his voice, even though he’s made it impossible for me to look at him over my shoulder.

  “What about you? If you’re out on the road, I don’t want you getting with anybody else either. Or touching yourself.” I lick my dry lips. “Not unless I’m on the other side of the phone.”

  Silence. And I see his other hand fisting around his dick, which he pushes back into to me.

  “You’re an idiot,” he says quietly.

  Now it’s my turn to still, the three words bringing back memories of the first time we met. The first time we fought.

  “You’re an idiot if you think I’d want to do this with any woman but you,” he finishes. His strokes become faster, meaner, even as his words become nicer. “But if you need me to say the words, here they go: I’m not paying any other girl any attention while I’m out on the road, Purple. And you’re going to pay for that, because I’m going to call you every day, make you play out all the fucked up fantasies I’ve been carrying around in my head since the night we met.”

  His words makes me feel strangely at peace, despite the ominous threat lurking in them.

  “Your pussy,” I happily concede. “Nobody touches it but you. Not even me. Nobody…”

  I have to
stop then, because the orgasm hits me hard, ripping through my belly with such electric urgency, my heart stops beating and my brain goes offline for a few moments.

  Colin’s thrusts become faster above me. Desperate and urgent like he’s barely holding on.

  “Fuck yes, Purple. Damn you come good on this dick, girl.”

  His dirty assessment of my current situation sends a fresh climax shuddering through me. I cry out, my teeth grinding against the onslaught of intense pleasure. And just when I think I’ve got it under control, Colin swells and explodes inside of me with a jagged shout.

  Cue the third climax, and I just can’t… The entire side of my face hits the mattress as I collapse onto the bed. My butt is the only thing in the air now, and that’s because I’m still fully impaled on Colin’s dick. If not for that, I know I’d be little more than a quivering puddle of flesh on the bed. Every single ounce of fight has gone out of me. I’m no longer capable of speaking anything but Colin’s name in wonder, over and over again. My body is no longer capable of doing anything but shuddering with pleasure. Everything inside of me has given out. Given up. A word floats into the puddle of my mind like a steel boat with a foghorn. Piercing and undeniable.

  Submitted.

  I’ve submitted to him. This is what it must feel like to completely give yourself to someone the way Colin’s been demanding I give myself to him all weekend.

  The realization is too much. This situation is too much. Colin is too much. Hot tears blur my vision, but I don’t even have enough strength of will leftover to wipe them away.

  Then comes Colin’s voice, like a lighthouse in the fog. He pulls out of me, and the coldness of his disengagement is soon replaced by the warmth of his arms. “C’mere, Purple…”

  He tips my chin up. Presses his entire face into mine. Forehead, noses. I can even feel his eyelashes against my closed lids as he breathes his next words into my mouth like a CPR kiss. “I know it’s intense. I know it’s scary. I’m fucking scared myself. But it’s okay.”

  I believe him. Colin is probably the only person on Earth I could believe about anything right now. Especially this.

  “You did real good,” he tells me. “Better than I ever could have expected.” Suddenly he’s flooding me with a string of compliments. How much he likes my voice. How soft my body is. How he’s been dreaming about this for years—literally dreaming about it.

  “And you’re beautiful,” he tells me. “Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are? So fucking pretty, I’m supposed to be one of the best writers in country music and I can’t come up with anything better than that. Lookin’ at you fries my brain the hell out, Purple.”

  I believe him. For once I’m not thinking about the scar or the trouble spots on my body that keep me from doing things like wearing a bikini out in public.

  Colin makes me feel beautiful. Clean and glowing with promise.

  It’s the sex. I dimly recall something I read once about sex literally messing with your brain chemistry like a drug. This sex, I realize somewhere in the back of my mind, is definitely a drug, one that renders me incapable of telling what’s bullshit and what’s not.

  “Colin, I…” All the things I want to say traffic jam in my head, and I clamp my mouth, afraid of what I might say. Once again afraid of myself when it comes to him.

  Colin covers us up. “It’s all right. You don’t have to say anything. I tell you what. I’m going to put a lid on Mr. Jekyll until tomorrow. We’ll wake up. Do things sweet. Have a little breakfast. Talk to each other like human beings. Then fuck like animals one more time, and then we’ll both get on the road. Sound like a plan?”

  I am so curious about the prospect of doing things “sweet” with Colin. What does that even look like?

  But I’m tired. More tired than I’ve ever been after sex, and sleep is dragging my eyelids back down.

  “Okay,” I say. Agreeing to his plan, simple as that.

  Because despite all the complicated shit that’s gone down over the course of the weekend, and all the complicated shit still lurking in the hidden corners of our relationship, at this moment, Colin’s plan does feel like a logical choice. Sleep. Be sweet. Eat. Rough sex. Leave.

  What could be more simple than that?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I wake up to the sound of a phone ringing.

  “Not mine,” I think as my eyes flutter open. I’d used Colin’s charger the day before to recharge my phone and text Bernice that I was fine, but my ringtone is the opening bars to “Nine to Five.” It must be Colin’s.

  Colin, who’s all snuggled up behind me, both his arms around my body with one arm around my waist and the other cupping my large breast.

  “I think that’s your phone,” I mumble.

  “Ignore it.” The hand cupping my breast starts kneading, as if to punctuate his argument.

  I arch back into him, happy to take this particular command. By the time the phone stops ringing, both of my nipples are standing on end.

  “I thought I wore you out last night, but look how hot my pussy is,” he says, low and dirty in my ear.

  He takes his fingers out of my core and pushes them into my mouth, giving me a sample of my own essence. He’s right. There’s plenty of me to taste on his fingers. And I groan around his fingers, feeling like the nastiest girl on earth.

  “Do you know how bad I want to hold you down right now?” he growls in my ear. “Make you put me in your pretty mouth and suck while I toy with these fine breasts of yours. Get you so hot you give me everything else. Your breasts. Your body. Your mind. Everything.”

  His words send sharp pulses of lust through my core, and I squirm in his arms at the image of sucking him off while he plays with my now very swollen breasts.

  “But I promised we’d do this sweet, so…”

  It almost feels like a let down when he quietly pushes in from behind and starts stroking into me with slow, gentle care.

  But only for a little bit. Then it becomes something else. Flames chewing through kindle slowly until the fire bursts into a fiery blast that needs putting out.

  His strokes become faster and true to his word, he doesn’t make me beg or submit, just drapes an arm over my hip and starts circling my clit.

  Pleasure bubbles through me, filling me up until I come with a long, keening moan.

  “Oh, God, Colin,” I say. “Please come, too.”

  To my surprise, he does exactly as I say. Before I’m even done coming down from my climax, I feel him release into me from the back with a grunt of satisfaction.

  “Good morning,” he says, turning me over to face him afterwards.

  I just stare at him, my eyes soft and surprised.

  “What?” he asks. “You didn’t think I could get off without the rough stuff?”

  “No,” I admit, still too stunned to consider a more tactful answer.

  “I’m a little fucked in the head,” he says with a half-grin. “But I’m not a complete monster. I like when you fight me, but I like this just fine, too.”

  He tilts his head to look down at me. “When are you going to get that you just turn me on, Purple?”

  The question is a soft accusation that somehow makes me feel like I really am an idiot for not considering one of the biggest country singers in the world might see something more in me than a shockingly eager willingness to play along with his rough sex fantasies.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “For what?”

  “For this weekend. For helping me out with my songs. For… everything. I’ve never… um… experienced anything like this.”

  Something unreadable passes over his face, and he opens his mouth to answer just as the phone starts ringing again.

  Colin curses.

  “Ginny and you are the only ones who have this number, and Ginny would never call twice unless it was important. Hold on…”

  I watch him get out of bed, naked, and take the phone out of the back pocket of his discarded jeans.r />
  “Hey, Ginny. I hope this is important,” he says instead of a proper hello.

  Then a frown comes over his face.

  “Yeah, I did buy a pink razor and some ladies clothes the other day. Yeah, wine, too. Why?”

  He listens and his frown becomes deeper the longer Ginny talks.

  “Hell…”

  He goes over to the closet and pulls down a plastic shopping bag.

  “Sorry,” he says, tossing the clothes over to me. “That’s all they had in the women’s section.”

  I open the bag and find a pair of mom jeans, a pink thong, and a pink t-shirt with the name of what I can only assume is the local high school’s football team written across it.

  Before I can answer, Colin’s back, talking with Ginny.

  “Yeah. Yeah, you better come and get her. How soon can you be here?” His mouth quirks up. “That soon… because you were already on your way when you called the first time.” He chuckles. “And that’s why I pay you the big bucks, Ginny. Yeah, I’ll make sure she’s ready. Honk when you’re outside.”

  But the amusement falls off his face as soon as he hangs up.

  “The owner of the local general store snapped a pic of me buying the razor and the ladies clothes yesterday. Sold it to a few online blogs. Story broke this morning. That means we maybe have an hour before the Nashville paparazzi shows up here and figures out where I’m staying. Get in the shower. Ginny’s going to be here in twenty to pick you up.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Actually Ginny gets there in less than twenty. After taking a quick shower and getting dressed, I come out to the living room to find her with Colin, discussing next steps.

  “They’ve already got a few paps swarming around the general store,” Ginny is saying to Colin. “I think the best thing to do is for me to drive her car out of here, then by the time they figure out you’re staying out here, she’ll be gone and they’ll only have my car to trace if they take pictures. Luckily it’s private property all the way from the road. Might keep them out of the trees.”