Bad Guys
Bad Series #5
Sarah Michelle Lynch
Copyright © Sarah Michelle Lynch 2020
The moral right of SARAH MICHELLE LYNCH to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
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All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
The Series So Far
Bad Friends
Bad Actor
Bad Wife
Bad Girl
Bad Guys
Bad Lover
Prologue
I was seventeen and didn’t really know why I was doing it. Perhaps there was some mystery about it all I wanted to be rid of. Maybe it was being best friends with Chloe… who’d already done it so much since she lost hers two years ago. Or maybe it was that I really liked the look of Zeeshan and thought we could become boyfriend and girlfriend.
There was a party downstairs and the music was loud. Chloe was heavily into bands like the Killers, the Darkness, Foo Fighters and Metallica, plus a number of others she claimed she’d fuck all the members of if they were up for it. She was wild and dangerous and I wanted to be a little bit more like her.
Zeeshan and I stood around in Chloe’s bedroom, awkward and trying not to look one another in the eye. We’d locked the door, the bed was made and there were fairy lights above the headboard. Chloe had said we could use her room for as long as we wanted, although I knew she didn’t expect it to last long. I also didn’t know if people had already been screwing on her bed that night. I wouldn’t have put it past a couple of people to have already done it. Helen’s house was the place if you wanted to get a bit wild and loose without it ever getting back to your parents. Stuff went on there that we never spoke about outside of that house. And it was even wilder if Helen was away for the night – which she was this night – hence why I was finally feeling this could be it.
“Shall we…?” he said, stumbling over his words.
“Yeah, okay. Yeah.”
He guided me to the bed and spread one of Chloe’s throws over the covers for me to lie down on. I dragged my knickers down my legs and waited on the bed, quiet and patient, my skirt covering my modesty. I watched him pick a condom up off the bedside table where there was an array of them, Chloe’s equivalent of party snacks.
He took down his jeans and pants and I saw him for the first time, flaccid and really tiny actually. A part of me knew then and there (having listened to Chloe go on about how size mattered) that I wouldn’t suddenly be falling in love with him or in too much pain that night. That was good.
He climbed on top of me and kissed me, groped my breast and my waist, then my arse, over the short green skirt I was wearing. They were sloppy kisses and not good. I felt grossed out. I didn’t even know why I was doing this. He had bad breath… probably the pizza that was being handed around downstairs, oh, and the spliffs.
Within seconds he was on his knees and rolling on the condom. He’d grown a bit bigger but not by much… maybe four inches hard. Definitely below average. He also had an enormous amount of pubic hair… and I’d worked so hard earlier that day to make my own look pretty.
“Wait, wait—”
I tried to get his attention but he was lowering himself onto me and lifting the skirt. He placed himself between my legs but I shut my thighs as his eyes closed.
“Uhhh,” he groaned, “uhhh.”
He bounced violently on top of me, until fifteen seconds later… his face contorted and he came. He lifted his head up and pressed his lips together. “Sorry I didn’t last long. It was my first time.”
I said absolutely nothing and watched with horror as he removed the condom, only a drip of cum inside it – like he’d wanked earlier or something. Or his balls, buried beneath mountains of hair, were as comparatively small as his penis. He wrapped the johnny in tissue and grinned.
“How was it for you?” he asked.
I stared at him, wondering if this freak was for real. I mean, seriously? Really? Seriously?
I couldn’t help but laugh.
I laughed so hard, my chest hurt and I choked.
Then he stared hard and barked, “You weren’t much good, either. I’m gonna tell everyone how much of a crap shag you are and how much of a baggy pussy you’ve got. Must be like your mate, Chloe. Putting it about. Hanging like a fucking old witch.”
He left the room, slamming the door as I still lay there, knickerless beneath my skirt.
I was utterly horrified.
Was this what sex with blokes was like? Unless you pretended it was good… you’d be called all the names under the sun.
I never told anyone about that night. When Chloe asked me if it was done, I just said, “It’s done.”
When she would talk animatedly about her sexual partners, I’d pretend that I knew exactly what she was talking about. I’d dress just as provocatively as her, if not more so, and people automatically believed we were the same. When people asked me who I was shagging, I’d say, “Someone really rich and taller than you.” They’d believe me. And when Chloe and I moved to London after we finished our degrees, she even believed I was a dirty stop-out when I got home from raves at four or five in the morning… when in reality, I had actually been at raves, dancing literally all night and waiting for a decent bloke to ask me out. No decent blokes ever came up to me in places like that. And I never went looking for a man in the right places. I think what happened with Zeeshan put me off for life… just the look in his eyes… hatred… calling me those names and talking about my intimate places in that way. Did men really care if you were tight or baggy? Did women actually get baggy? Or were some men just so small, like Zeeshan, they had an inferiority complex?
Zeeshan was a friend of Adam and Paul’s from their football club and I never had to see him again. He stopped coming to Chloe’s parties and I was so relieved. He must have been, too.
He thought we’d fucked but he’d basically shagged the gap between my thighs as I kept my legs closed tight, lured by the heat I suppose, into believing he’d been inside me. It was utterly pathetic and the worst moment of my entire life. If I hadn’t have laughed, I would’ve cried.
I decided from that moment onwards, that whoever I chose to be my first would be special and a lover, not just some boy trying to get his end away.
Would Zeeshan always tell people he’d lost his virginity to me? Or did he know what he’d done and couldn’t bear to admit it to himself, let alone anyone else?
I decided from then on to hold out and I suppose another factor that played a part in that choice was Chloe’s loose morals. I watched her with blokes and I listened to them talking about her when her back was turn
ed. They traded anecdotes like she was a piece of meat and I never, ever wanted that for myself. Just so long as Chloe believed I wasn’t a virgin anymore, then we could remain friends – she wouldn’t think I was stuck-up or being uptight if she didn’t know the truth.
It wasn’t just Chloe, though. Lily was going out with some loser who made her feel crap about herself. And Marie was constantly arguing with her boyfriend Anthony, who was older and bloody good-looking but clearly had a dark side.
Not to mention Paul was fucking around with women, always had been. Theo and Adam were always going on about the porn they were watching. Tom was so fucking high all the time, it was scary. We also knew he had someone he was screwing but nobody knew who it was. Just that when he wasn’t getting it, he was always tugging one off in the toilets.
But was all that just part of growing up?
I guess I didn’t know then… what I know now…
That when you make a decision like that, to hold out for something more, it makes you a hell of a lot pickier.
And that when the pickings are slim, you might end up regretting a decision that ultimately, leaves you alone and a virgin for some time after.
Whenever I contemplate picking up a random guy and getting it over with, I think back to that night and remember how I felt… that I never wanted to be put through that, not ever again. And then I shut down my urges. I reach down with my fingers or I grab my vibrator.
I don’t want to lose my virginity to an idiot.
And there are a lot of idiots out there.
Chapter One
Adam and Susan’s Wedding
The only good thing about this wedding is that it won’t go on forever. It has to end at some point soon. It’s nine in the evening now and I’m counting down until eleven, which I deem a reasonable hour to escape upstairs to my room, flake out in my robe with a box of chocolates and watch TV while the nutters down here continue making fools of themselves on the dance floor. The worst that will happen is I’ll be forced to stay until midnight when the party officially closes down.
I’m with Lily and we’re sat watching Marie and that boring fart of a husband of hers on the dance floor. He can’t move for shit and though I’m no expert, I doubt he’s any better in the bedroom, if what they say about being a good dancer and a good lover is true.
Adrian is her rebound guy… the one she got with right after things fell apart with Anthony, the real love of her life.
Adrian is a plumber and he is boring with a capital B. He never stops talking about the weirdoes he meets in his work or the disgusting messes he unclogged round at old Mrs Batty’s house last week, not to mention he goes around showing everyone pictures of the baby and what shade its poo is this week. I mean, if you like that sort of thing… but fuck, no. Not for me.
Lily has been looking out for Paul all day and a part of me really wants to tell her that rumour is he shagged a maid in the disabled toilet earlier. The bastard. I wouldn’t touch that guy with a barge pole but the girl has been infatuated with him since forever and no amount of common sense is going to rectify that situation.
Then I catch sight of someone Susan is laughing and joking with – both of them stood by the DJ booth, where Susan appears to have camped out picking one crappy disco song after another. It’s currently Saturday Night and I’m crying inside. However, the fella she’s currently gassing with… boy, I have to lick my lips, he’s so gorgeous.
He’s Asian, with beautiful, immaculate caramel skin and dark, dark hair… and darker eyes guaranteed to make you want to drop your panties… if you have no sense. I watch them trade little comments about people on the dance floor and I wonder where this guy came from. Then Adam joins the trio, lanky Adam with his floppy hair and big grin and those baby blue eyes Chloe can’t ever get enough of (she used to say). People might think me a snob if they were inside my head but I actually am just a little bit wise to everything going on around us.
God, bloody hell, though. That guy is some serious hotness and he’s got to be like six foot five or something. God, he’s dark and way tall… and way hot. Shit, but he’s bound to be as much of a disappointment as the rest.
Then, out of nowhere, he turns his head and looks directly at me, as if he knew where I was sitting and was waiting just to be able to get a look at me again. I turn my head to chat shit with Lily about something or other… but I feel his eyes on me. It’s like there’s a direct line between us, invisible but built on lust. He’s absolutely the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
The next thing I know, there’s a huge shadow, a figure looming over us. Lily looks at me and grins, insinuating he’s looking for my attention. I turn my head and see just how fucking pretty he is. His eyes are huge and his mouth is plump and I’m a sucker for a partial overbite in a man. I can’t help it. Jeez, he has a perfect amount of stubble and a head of thick, black hair which looks soft and not over-styled. He has big shoulders, a prominent chin, and best of all, he’s blushing and his cheeks are glowing with life.
“Do you wanna dance, Saskia?”
How does he know my name? My insides are throbbing, just hearing him say my name.
“And you are?” I ask, sounding a little snotty.
“Uh, I’m Adam’s cousin, Robert. He told me you’re called Saskia.”
Adam’s cousin? Shit, man. God. How did this Adonis come from the same line?
He smiles and I’m literally dead. Literally. He has the most beautiful smile. So many teeth and that fire in his eyes. He’s still asking if I’d like to dance, his eyes dancing, his hand held out in hope.
“Fine,” I submit, struggling to act cool.
Lily gives me a look and I see she agrees with me… this guy is supreme.
Some dance song reaches its end just as we step onto the floor. I spot Susan across the other side of the room, still camped out by the DJ, a smile on her face as she watches us, specifically. I really can’t be doing with being set up by her of all people. Yeah, she’ll keep Adam stocked up on pies and pizza, if the cooking skills her father kept going on about during the father-of-the-bride speech are to be believed, but shit, that woman is crazy.
Robert moves in towards me and I wrap my arms around his neck. I wonder if he can feel my heart as it pumps erratically, my entire body on edge. He holds his hands on my waist and sways softly against me, but not too closely. I hold my breath when he licks his lips, trying not to lick mine in a mirrored response, like I’m admitting our attraction. Instead I force myself to smile rather than lick my lips and he smiles back, even brighter.
“And I thought you were going to be a bitch,” he says, “being so beautiful and all. You must know you could have anybody.”
I throw my head back laughing. “Well, I don’t want just anyone. Trust me, if your best friend was like mine, you’d understand what I’m saying.”
I try not to get too lost in his eyes but he’s looking at me so dead on, I can’t escape his gaze, nor what it’s doing to me.
“So, Adam says you went to school with him?”
“Yes,” I reply, scoping the other couples surrounding us.
I spot Lily by the bar talking to that fool, Paul but here I am, stuck and unable to budge an inch… this guy has my body in his arms and I can’t for the life of me find the strength to go across the room and warn Lily. Even while my eyes are distracted, I can feel his gaze on me, my skin on fire in response to his stare.
“Adam went out with my friend, Chloe,” I murmur absently, wondering if a text might work:
Dear Lily, he’ll fuck anything. Love you, Sass x
Maybe not…
Not the right tone. Best not to say anything at all. Either way, she’s going to get hurt.
“The blonde lass?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, the one that didn’t work out.”
I turn my head and look directly into his eyes. If only it were that simple, I want to say, but I’m not into raking over others’ messes. I’d hate to become a gossi
p.
“I thought Susan was going to be the most beautiful woman in the room tonight, but hell I was wrong,” he says, almost growling.
I feel incredibly shy and avoid his gaze by moving in closer and resting my cheek against the lapel of his suit jacket. He’s wearing his shirt unbuttoned and I can feel the warmth of him pulsing out of that tiny bit of his open collar, his chest warm and solid against me. Man, am I glad I wore four-inch heels today. This guy is massive.
“So, which side of Adam’s family are you on? He’s never mentioned you.”
“His mother’s sister is my mum. My dad’s Indian.”
“Which part?”
“Mumbai. Mum was out there on an aid mission and they fell in love. They settled together here before I was born. My father is a doctor. Mum was a nurse. She went back to school and she’s a doctor now, too.”
“Wow, I always thought Adam’s family were so humble.” I pull back with a smile and he breathes in sharply when he’s able to gaze into my eyes again. “Don’t tell me you’re a doctor, as well?”
He grins so much, it hurts my heart to see it. He looks embarrassed but takes it in his stride.
“I’m training to be a heart surgeon.”
God, take me now, you fucking gorgeous meddler of hearts, you.
“It must be long hours… a lot of work,” I say, tenderly stroking my finger across the hairline at the nape of his neck.
“A great deal,” he says, “a great, great deal of hard work. But what I do is unbelievable. Even I don’t believe it sometimes.”
“I expect so.” I stare at his lips, begging to be kissed.
I look back up to his eyes and there’s a heat in his gaze and a desperation that scares me to the bone.
“What do you think of Susan?” I ask, clinging to his neck still.
“She seems lovely.”
I stretch up to whisper in his ear, “She’s a psycho.”
Bad Guys Page 1
