Bad Wolf

by Jo Raven

  I want to touch, and when I trail my fingers over its length, over the hot, silky skin and the weeping slit on the soft crown, he hisses between his teeth.

  Next thing I know, I’m pushed back against the tree, my dress bunched up around my waist, and he’s kissing me hard.

  This boy sure likes kissing me.

  “Never kissed anyone before.” That’s what he said the first time we kissed, and that’s so sweet and sad and powerful, and—

  He pushes into me, his cock breaching me slowly and surely, sliding into me. I let out a breath, taking him in, all of him, until he’s seated inside me, his pelvis pressed to mine. It’s overwhelming, and I squirm, needing something I can’t name to ease the incredible feeling of fullness, and I can hardly believe he fits inside me, so thick and long and hard like steel. I whimper, gripping his shoulders and rocking my hips.

  “Fuck, kitten...” He finally starts to move, his eyes trained on my face. “God, you feel fucking amazing. Is this…?”

  “Do it, JJ.” I rock my hips again and gasp at the pleasure.

  “Goddamn.” His hips snap forward as he drives into me once, twice. “Christ.”

  My mouth falls open, a cry rising in my chest, and he clamps his lips over mine, swallowing down the sound. He cups the back of my head, keeping our mouths fused as we move together, rocking and rubbing. Mouths crushed together, tongues clashing, we race toward the end, the drag and pull of his hard cock against my inner walls maddening. Pleasure sparkles at the base of my spine, and I moan in his mouth.

  He breaks the kiss, gasping, his hips jerking wildly, his cock impossibly big as it pushes deep into me, filling me to the brim. Pushing me over the edge.

  The fall is exquisite. Delicious. Ecstatic. I think I leave my shuddering body for a moment and float above, in a cloud of white light.

  Then I come down, and I’m still moving, still moaning with pleasure, milking every last drop of it.

  Of him.

  Because he’s coming hard, his jaw clenched against a shout as he spills inside me, his cum hot like fire, his forehead pressed to mine as his hips buck. I brush my lips over his, and he chases after my mouth, even as he’s still coming, still spilling, grunting with pleasure.

  Gradually, his movements slow down. He slumps against me, slowly softening, still buried in me. He slams a hand into the trunk above my head.

  “Holy fuck. That was…” He shakes his head. “Damn.”

  He feels so good inside me, even not fully hard, and I love holding on to his trembling body as he struggles to catch his breath. Love the musk of his clean sweat and the nutty scent of his seed, the fainter notes of cinnamon and spice drawing me until I bury my nose where his shoulder meets his neck and inhale deep.

  God. So delicious. I’m acting like a mad woman, and I don’t care. Besides, nobody is here to see me.

  I hope.

  “All right, kitten?” He lowers my leg and smooths down my dress, then he lifts one hand and strokes my cheek. It’s too dark to see the color of his eyes, but I feel his lips when they touch the tip of my nose.

  “Yeah.”

  I should hate the nickname. Kitten. Ridiculous.

  And yet it’s cute. As for calling me Embers, I can’t complain anymore. Not when I know that Embers means something important to him.

  “Not so romantic here,” he says. “I know that. I’d buy you flowers. Would you like that?”

  Okay, I’m speechless again. “You’d buy me flowers?”

  But he hates shopping, is the only coherent thought I manage.

  “Hell yeah, I’d buy you flowers. And chocolates, and whatever you want.” He cups my face. “Red roses?”

  “No.” I look away, face heating. What girl doesn’t like red roses? “White roses. They stand for new beginnings.” I shrug at his arched brow. “My mom’s a florist.”

  He nods, his expression going blank. How weird, I think, that he loves babies but goes stiff when I speak of my parents. That he talks about sending me roses after having sex against a tree trunk. So many contradictions.

  “Ready to go?” He takes my hand, and I let him pull me out of the cover of trees, heading toward the street, my mind buzzing.

  It’s not until we’re sitting in a cab and rolling that I realize I’m still not wearing my panties, and that they’re lying somewhere in the park.

  Then Jesse kisses me, and they’re again forgotten. Who needs panties, anyway, with this man? They’d only get in the way.

  The house is frigging huge. The gate is open, music and noise spilling into the street. Inside there are pools with stone alligators at the edges. The small crowd of the wedding has expanded. There have to be at least a hundred people milling about the grounds, shadows until they move close to the torches stuck in the ground and the illuminated pools. A long table with food stands on one side. The scent of water tells me we’re on the lake shore.

  Crazy place. Never expected anything so grand. I hope Asher and Audrey are enjoying their reception. After what I heard during the ceremony, they more than deserve it.

  If only I enjoyed this, too…

  Jesse’s arm is a welcome weight around my shoulders, and I’m grateful beyond words for his presence, but as we stroll along one pool, watching candles and bunches of flowers floating in the milky, lit-up water, I know I have to let him do his thing—talk to his friends, catch up with them, talk to new people, without me attached like a leech to his side. Both for his sake, and mine.

  I mean, it doesn’t have to be for the whole time, right? I can go find Kayla and Ev, at the very least, and return to him later.

  If he’s still available and willing to hold my hand.

  “Trust me,” he said earlier.

  Maybe I should. Maybe I should trust myself, too, to survive for an hour without need of a babysitter.

  A very sexy, handsome babysitter. Still…

  “Hey, I was thinking…” I start to pull away from him, and his arm instinctively tightens around my shoulders, then drops to his side.

  “What’s wrong?” He has to shout to be heard over the music and general hubbub.

  “Nothing’s wrong.” I smile at him, study his beautiful face in the flickering light of the torches. “I thought I’d just go say hi to the girls and find you later. Give you a breather.”

  “I don’t need a breather from you, Embers.”

  A knot forms in my throat. He keeps saying such sweet things, keeps catching me off guard.

  “Just for a while. Need to do this.”

  He seems about to say something, then thinks better of it and nods instead. A faint smile touches his lips, my favorite one that lights up his eyes.

  Before I go, though, he leans in and drops a soft, sweet kiss on my mouth. “Come back whenever you like,” he whispers, and my heart does a wild little flip of joy.

  “I will.”

  Wandering away from him is harder than I thought, but I force myself not to look back. Just an hour, Amber, come on.

  I push my way through a group of giggling girls, searching for my friends, and for one fleeting, horrible second I think I see Nick from the corner of my eye.

  My breath freezes in my lungs. I stop in my tracks, trying to locate him again, but he’s gone. Or I imagined him. Oh God, I probably did. Wouldn’t be the first time. I used to see him everywhere for a while, back then.

  What would he be doing here anyway?

  And where are my friends? So many people. It’s as if they sprouted from the tiled floor. I swear the wedding was a much smaller affair. Which makes sense, I guess, but it’s only sinking in now, as I wander, lost, bumping into people, fast working myself into a panic.

  I rub at the leather band on my wrist and suck in a deep breath.

  The crowd parts a little toward the end of the pool, and I see familiar faces at last. Zane’s blue Mohawk is like a flashing road sign, and not far from him, I spot Micah and Ev. I open my mouth to call her name, but they seem to be having a serious conversation, judgin
g from their frowning faces.

  Uh-oh. Not a good time.

  I backpedal before they notice me. Kayla is nowhere to be seen, and Zane and Dakota are heading off, toward the buffet, together with Dylan and his little brothers.

  Maybe eating something isn’t a bad idea. I should ask Jesse if he’d like to join me. I retrace my steps, hurrying back along the pool to its other end, pushing against the flow.

  Yeah, so I didn’t even make it for fifteen minutes on my own. But truth is, I am hungry. Starving. Couldn’t eat all day from the nerves, and the smells coming from the back of the garden are mouthwatering. My stomach is growling like a beast from hell.

  Hey, he did say I could go back to him whenever I wanted, right? And although I’ve only been away from him only a moment, I find a spring in my step and a lightness in my heart as I walk back toward him.

  You got it bad, girl.

  But I can’t keep from smiling as I wade through a cluster of laughing guys who are waving beer bottles and smoking what I only hope is tobacco—in search of JJ.

  And I find him.

  Only, something’s wrong with the picture. My mind refuses to process what my eyes are seeing, and I stop so abruptly the momentum carries me forward one more step.

  Jesse is kissing a girl. Her hands are on his shoulders and her mouth on his, and I can’t… can’t breathe. Can’t speak.

  Can’t frigging think.

  My hands are shaking. The tremor spreads to my arms.

  I should have expected this. Why didn’t I expect this? Everyone warned me, everyone. People don’t change just like that, from one woman to the next. A manwhore won’t change his ways for me.

  I was only gone fifteen minutes…

  Turning away blindly, I make for the garden gate. I can’t get out of here fast enough. My heart hurts. It’s cracking, shattering.

  Stupid, Amber. That was so stupid of you, to fall for him.

  I think I hear him calling my name, and I start to run, my sandals clacking on the paved floor. I duck under arms, squeeze between people in my rush to get out of there. Disoriented, I slow down and glance around.

  There. The gate.

  A moment later I’m out on the street, calling a cab. I’m lucky, there’s one in the vicinity. I walk further down the road while waiting, and as I hear a commotion at the gate, and my name being called once more, I climb into the cab and speed away.

  If only fixing my heart could be so simple.

  Part Three

  My name’s Jesse Lee, not Jesse James, but the famous outlaw and I seem to have lots in common. I’m not a train robber by any stretch, but I know what it’s like to be poor. I’m not a gang leader, but I’ve lived on the dirty streets for years. I’m no murderer, but by the looks some people give me, I might as well be. I’m always on the run, always on the move, never sprouting roots, always drifting, like my namesake.

  He’s dead, and I’m alive, but I might as well be dead and buried in his grave. I might as well be him—because if I said I wanted to stop running, that I want a home and a girl to love and hold, nobody would believe me.

  Wanna bet?

  ~ Jesse

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jesse

  Holy shit. I try to push Cassie off me without hurting her, but she’s holding on to me like she’s drowning and I’m a lifesaver. What the fuck’s up with this girl? I don’t want to kiss her. I don’t like her, she tastes wrong, and besides…

  Don’t want to kiss any girl but Amber.

  I growl, finally shaking her hold off me and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “What the hell’s wrong with you, huh?”

  “Don’t pretend you didn’t want it, Jesse Lee.” She has her hands on her hips, blue eyes flashing, and hell, she’d be sexy, she’d be hot if…

  If I was interested. Which I’m not. “Stay away from me. I’m not…”

  Was that Amber? I thought I saw her, eyes wide and dark, face white, mouth open. I thought I saw her turn on her heels and run.

  “Amber?” I turn to go after her.

  Cassie grabs my hand. “Jesse, wait. Do you really want to do this?”

  I still. Cold fury spreads in my chest, in my face, until it feels numb. “Let. Go.” I look pointedly at her hand on mine. “Now.”

  Her brows shoot up and some color leaves her face. “Okay.” She draws her hand back, curls it into a fist. “But you must see it. She’s not like you. She’s taking this seriously. I’m doing you a favor, Jesse.”

  “Fuck you.” If she was a guy, I’d have punched her, but she’s a chick, dammit. “Stay out of my life, and don’t you ever fucking touch me again, got it?”

  I run after Amber. I’ll explain this to her. She’ll understand. She has to know I wouldn’t do this to her. That I wouldn’t do this at all, not since her.

  Why did she run? Fuck, she doesn’t believe I initiated the kiss, did she? Not after I told her I never kissed anyone before her. That I want to be with her.

  But the cold feeling in my gut tells me she does believe it’s my fault.

  Shocker, I know. With my history, why would she trust me? But it smarts.

  I shove people aside, their curses following me as I look for her frantically. Where did she go?

  Amber. I thought she saw me, that she had faith in me. More faith than I have in myself. And now I can’t see her anywhere. She hasn’t left the reception, right?

  Right?

  Oh fuck.

  I start running flat out as soon as the crowd thins a little, heading out. I pound out onto the street and glance right and left. Where are you, Embers?

  A glitter to my left has me running that way before I even get a good look. It’s her all right, her silver dress catching the light of a street lamp. But a cab overtakes me and stops in front of her. She opens the door and climbs inside.

  “Embers!” I put in another burst of speed. Can’t let her leave believing I cheated on her. Can’t let her go. “Wait!”

  But the cab speeds off, leaving me in its dust. I race after it for a few yards, waving my arms like an idiot and calling for her.

  No use.

  Dammit.

  She’s gone.

  I slow to a halt on the street, brace my hands on my knees and struggle to catch my breath. A car honks behind me, and I stumble sideways, climbing onto the sidewalk.

  Can’t believe this happened. Can’t believe she wouldn’t even stay to talk to me, hear me out. I thought…

  You thought she was different. That she’d treat you like someone worth hanging on to. Instead she turned her back at the first sign of trouble, just like everyone else in your life. Didn’t wait two seconds to hear you out, give you the chance to explain yourself.

  And the kicker is that you still want her and hope she’ll take you back.

  Seth finds me drinking whiskey by the pool some time later, sitting in a bamboo chair. I’m staring at my cell phone, at the lack of response after the tenth text I’ve sent her, when his shadow falls over me.

  He pries the glass from my fingers and sits down on the chair across from me. He lifts it, swallows the rest of my whiskey down and grimaces. “So what the fuck happened here, man?”

  I put down the damn cell and rub a hand over my face, then reach for the leather band around my wrist.

  It’s not there. I panic for a second before I remember giving it to her.

  All right, then.

  The music isn’t as loud as before, and a glance around tells me most people have left. Who knows for how long I’ve been sitting here.

  Fuck. I get up on unsteady legs, intent on catching a cab to her place and knocking on her door until she lets me in, lets me explain.

  Fight for your girl, Zane had said.

  The world tilts, and I sink back down. Whoa. I blink, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass.

  Seth hasn’t moved from his sprawl on the seat, not even when I weaved on my feet. Asshole.

  “So how much have you drunk?” He lifts the whiskey
bottle from its spot by my seat. He shakes it. It’s almost empty. “Tell me this wasn’t full when you started on it.”

  “It wasn’t.” Least, I don’t think it was. Not completely.

  “Good, because if you swallowed that much whiskey in half an hour, I’d be calling the fucking ambulance right now.”

  Fuck. I thought I’d been sitting here for five minutes only. I needed to catch my breath and I hoped she’d answer the phone, or my texts.

  “I’m okay. I need to go, I’m…” I shake my head, frown at him. “Hey, just a sec. How come you’re not flaming pissed?”

  His brows lift. “I don’t look pissed to you?”

  Well. He’s got a point, and yet… “Not enough. Not if you like Cassie that way.”

  “I don’t.”

  Back up. I didn’t quite catch that. “The fuck you don’t.”

  “She’s okay, I guess. No, Shane is the one who likes her.” He pours the remnants of the whiskey into my glass—my glass, motherfucker—and swallows it down in one gulp. “I’m pissed on his behalf, not mine. Which is why I haven’t punched your pretty face in.”

  Hell. “But the other night, outside Halo, you said—”

  “That she’s a nice girl.” He shrugs. “I need to believe it, for Shane. Guy’s head over heels.”

  “But you saw what she did.” I feel cold, and I wonder if I’m coming down with something, or if it’s all the whiskey I drank. “That’s so fucked up.”

  “She just came on to you?” He cocks his head at me, eyes narrowing.

  “Yes!”

  “Why didn’t you push her away?”

  I gape at him. “Shit, you don’t believe me.”

  “Just saying, man. She’s a girl, and you’re a strong guy. She can’t have forced you.”

  I get up again, dizziness be damned. I jab a finger at Seth. “You saw her at Halo the other night. And for your information, motherfucker, I pushed her, but she wouldn’t let go. Ask anyone who was around. Fuck.”