His Brat: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Isabella Starling

  “Because you’re nothing to me,” she says, delivering the first blow. “Because what happened between us meant nothing. Because I’m fucked up, and this relationship, or whatever it is, can never happen. Just get me out of this fucking mess, Max. That’s why my mom married you, isn’t it? To make all our lives fucking easier.”

  I feel the weight of her words cutting into me, and I hope to God I don’t show her how hurt I am by them. By the time Annabel’s back at the table, we’re both silent and staring at the grain of the wood.

  “We need to make a plan,” Annabel announces. “Max, this is a real threat to my campaign. You must make sure this never comes out. Make sure it’s all taken care of in a matter of a few days–a week at most. I have a speech in a few days which I need to be prepared for, and I can’t deal with this shit.”

  She gives her daughter a cool look, and Lola Grace looks so frail and broken it makes my soul ache. But I nod like the fucking puppet like I am, like they both want me to. I accept the task like their goddamn lap dog, and I don’t look at Lola Grace again, leaving her alone just like she wanted all along.

  11

  Lola Grace

  Lying straight to Max’s face left me feeling dirty in more ways than one. I hate myself. I hate what I’ve become. And I hate that I am unable to tell him the truth the most.

  I am so worried about him judging me or thinking of me as weak—even though I know it’s ridiculous to be convinced he’d blame me for what happened. But every time I try to admit the truth to Max, I get tongue-tied and the words just won’t come out.

  After I delivered for the first few times, Brett, Jack and Stacy quickly realized there was more money in it for them than the measly amount they were getting. Their calls and our interactions got more and more threatening until I even considered skipping classes just to get rid of them. But I should’ve known better. As soon as they realized there was money to make, they started threatening me more and more.

  Having never seen the actual tape, I lived in fear of it reaching my mother and worst of all, Max. I wanted to prevent that from happening at any cost. I couldn’t let Max see me like that, see how I’d let them take advantage of me. So when they came up with the ridiculous amount of money they were now demanding from me, I went to my mother and my stepfather, and I begged them to find a solution.

  I know it wasn’t the best decision. Maybe I should’ve just told the truth. But I am too afraid of them judging me to do that; afraid of the look in Max’s eyes, pure disappointment, when he finds out what I let them do to me.

  The past few weeks, I’ve been operating on autopilot. I don’t know myself anymore. I’ve lost so much weight that my clothes hang off my body, my hair has lost its shine, and my eyes are dull and murky. A look in the mirror every day reminds me of what I’ve become, and I know there is no way Max would ever desire me again, not after all the shit that’s happened. But I need to keep pushing forward, for myself. I need to make myself feel better again, and I need to restart my life.

  During the next few days, mom and Max plan the whole thing. I spend more alone time with Max than I ever could have hoped for, but our interactions are stilted as hell and I find myself craving the moments we used to have together, the looks of longing that passed between us, the way he was desperate to be close to me and I to him. But those times are long gone, and all I can think about is fixing my future.

  Max puts together a contract. It is for a huge sum of money, the exact amount never being revealed to me fully. I know mom is well off, but I also know this is going to put a huge dent into the amount of cash she has left after dad’s death.

  The contract is binding and ensures Brett, Jack and Stacy—who is never mentioned in it by name, but included as a third party—will never be able to speak of this again after receiving the agreed-upon sum. I hate myself more with every zero that is added to it, and I know my mother will never forgive me. I don’t even care about that. All I can think about at night is Max. His scent, his touch, his words plague my memories.

  The day of the signing comes and I beg not to be included in the negotiations. Max bows out as well, even though I don’t know why. But mom is there, and I wait in a separate office. Merely knowing my former friends are a door away from me makes my skin crawl, and I can’t wait for all of this to be over. I’ve already decided I’ll do absolutely anything my mother tells me to, just to make sure something like this doesn’t happen again. After all, it’s all my fucking fault.

  A torturous hour after my arrival at the building, my mother finally comes back into the offices. She glares at me and throws a contract on the table. I half expect her to spit into my face.

  “You’ve nearly ruined me, girl,” she tells me coolly. “I have to say, I fucking underestimated you, Lola Grace.”

  I ignore her words for the time being, scrambling for the contract and letting out a huge sigh of relief once I realize it’s been signed. This means neither party will speak of this again, and it will not go to court. The movie won’t come out, and I am safe. But the price we paid… that my mother had to shell out, is something I’ll be repaying her for the rest of my life.

  I lean back in my chair once I realize it’s taken care of. It’s a done deal. I can breathe now. If they speak of the video again, they could go to prison due to the contract that binds both parties. But it also means they can never be tried or brought to court over what happened, and knowing that makes a small part of me ache horribly.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell my mother in a broken voice, but she merely laughs.

  “You’re fucking sorry?” she spits out at me. “Not good enough, Lola Grace. You nearly fucking ruined me. God, Darren was right about you all along. Such a fucking cock tease you are.”

  I stare at the desk in front of me and wish Max were here. Not so he’d defend me, but so I’d feel comforted by his mere presence. I need to be close to him right now. I need his scent and his strong hands and his sharp eyes to let me know I’ll be all right.

  “I’m sorry,” I manage to get out. “I’m sorry, mommy.”

  “If you’re not, you’re about to fucking be,” she spits out, rubbing her temples. “All this shit… it’s unbelievable. But I guess we’re somewhat alike after all, aren’t we, sweet daughter of mine?”

  I give her a blank stare and she laughs, shaking her head.

  “Darren is right,” she repeats once again, but there is something jarring about her words.

  “What do you mean, he is right?” I repeat softly, and her eyes connect with mine coolly. She glares at me before leaning down on the desk I’m sitting at and staring at my face.

  “I guess you’ve been honest with me, so I might as well tell you the truth too, huh?” she asks me in a voice that is almost soft, motherly. But it’s still tinged with the darkness I know lurks in my mother’s soul. “You’re a big girl now, aren’t you, Lola Grace? I mean, you fucked two guys on fucking video. Nothing should shock you at this point, right?”

  I shake my head automatically, wanting to block out the words she’s saying even though she has every right to be pissed at me. She just lost a huge amount of money because of me and I’ll never forgive myself for it.

  “Darren isn’t dead.”

  The words ring out in my ears, echoing in the room. Or am I just imagining that?

  I raise my eyes to meet my mother’s, and she smiles at me triumphantly.

  “Don’t look so fucking surprised, girl,” she says, sounding pleased with herself. “You should’ve known this all along. You really are thicker than a bowl of oatmeal, Lola Grace.”

  “But… w-we buried him,” I stutter as my heart starts pounding in overdrive.

  “We buried a body,” she says with a shrug. “An unidentified one.”

  “Why?” I ask, my hands shaking as I fold them in my lap.

  “Because there was shit about to come out, Lola Grace,” my mom explains tiredly. For the first time in months, maybe years, I take a long and good look at her.


  My mother is a beautiful woman, there is no denying that. Where the years might’ve taken their toll on her, her surgeons did the best possible job and ensured she looks every bit the young beauty she used to be when she was my age. But there is something else about her, something that makes her look old and bitter, and ugly. I look into my mother’s eyes and I realize I’m responsible for adding some of that ugliness to her otherwise so pretty face.

  “What did he do?” I ask her softly.

  She sighs and turns her back to me. She doesn’t look at me as she explains.

  “There were charges filed against him,” she tells me. “They found something on his computer, videos and pictures. I had no idea at the time, Lola Grace.”

  “What kind of videos and pictures?” I ask softly, feeling dread settling comfortably in the pit of my belly, making a home of my tired body.

  She turns around to face me and at the look of her face contorted in pain, I shiver. “Children,” she bites out. “Pictures of children.”

  She doesn’t need to say another word. We both know exactly what she means.

  We stay quiet for a long time. This time, I don’t let myself show my emotions. I don’t ask her why she never protected me from Darren. I don’t ask why she never asked herself if he tried to touch me, or if she ever noticed the fucking inappropriate looks he threw my way.

  I don’t ask, maybe because I’m worried that she did, and she just didn’t give a fuck.

  I stare at my mother like she is a complete stranger, and I wish we could burn all our bridges and start anew. But my mother’s cool expression lets me know there is no going back now.

  “Where is he now?” I finally manage to ask.

  “Close,” she lets me know, and it’s like a fist is tightening around my heart. I hate that man. Always have, always will. I don’t like knowing he’s alive, and I don’t like knowing he’s near me.

  “Are you fucking him?”

  The words just slip out before I can stop them. They’re vulgar, and they’re not something I would ask of my mother any other time. But her admission, as cruel and horrible as it was, makes me think she might be honest for a while longer.

  “Yes,” she replies simply.

  I get up from the chair abruptly and throw up in the recycling bin in the corner of the office. My mother watches me impassively as I wipe my mouth and sit back down.

  “You’re fucking a man whose death you faked after he was discovered in possession of child pornography,” I say bluntly. “You’re fucking a man who tried his best to abuse your daughter for years. You’re fucking a man who is the scum of the earth, and you faked his death so you can get into a position of power and pull on more fucking strings to make your sordid life better.”

  She merely stares at me.

  “Goodbye,” I tell her simply and walk towards the door.

  “Lola Grace,” she bites out a warning. I stop in front of the door, my hand on the handle.

  “I invested a lot of money into making sure this stays quiet,” she lets me know. “The least you can fucking do is be grateful to your mother.”

  I turn to look at her over my shoulder, feeling bile rising in my throat once again.

  “Thank you, Annabel,” I tell her coolly. “But you’re not my mother anymore.”

  She laughs. “Is that so? So be it then, Lola Grace.” Her expression turns sinister. “I want you out of your apartment by noon tomorrow.”

  Less than twenty-four hours. Fuck her.

  “So it shall be,” I reply, before leaving her office once and for all.

  12

  Max

  Present time

  I try to push her off. I really do.

  I’ve managed to be a man of my word up until now. But with Lola Grace on my lap, needy and wet and whispering my name, I don’t think I can handle it much longer. My cock agrees, straining painfully against my pants. I need to be inside her. Need to feel her grow hot and tight as fuck around my cock.

  “I can’t…” I start, shaking my head, keeping my hands off her. “I can’t fuck you, Lola Grace.”

  “Why not?” she whispers in my ear. “You’ve done it before…”

  She grinds that ass on my lap. I can feel her getting wetter, and I can only imagine how tight her pussy would feel right now. And more so, how tight her ass must be, an unclaimed territory, and she just offered it to me and I declined. What the fuck am I doing? Am I insane?

  I look at her with a groan, clinging on to my last remnants of humanity. Because this girl isn’t the innocent vixen I met that night at the bar. She’s a grown-up now, just like she said before. She matured and blossomed into a woman, and I was the one to set her on that path, ripping her virginity from her without even knowing it.

  “I’m not touching you,” I tell her through gritted teeth. Every cell in my body protests this decision, but I don’t let her see it. I raise my hands and place them on the handles of the chair, and she laughs, the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

  “I brought you a gift,” she tells me, reaching for her bag on my desk. When she does that, her pussy rubs against me almost painfully and I groan out loud. Lola Grace pretends not to notice as she pulls a box with a big, goofy bow on it from her bag. “Here you go, stepdaddy dearest.”

  I take the box from her with shaky hands. When I open it, I see an expensive cigar, and I chuckle to myself. “A cigar, Lola Grace?” I inquire with a raised eyebrow.

  “I know you like smokes, but I don’t want you to start again,” she shrugs with a little blush creeping up her neck, and it’s absolutely the cutest thing I’ve seen her do. I’m tempted to kiss her, but I promised myself I wouldn’t so much as lay a finger on her. And I’m going to be a man of my word.

  “Remember the first time we fucked?” she asks me softly, the vulgar word so sweet on her lips. I can merely nod and she smiles at me. “You were smoking, you told me to do all the work. I was clumsy as hell, I had no idea what I was doing. But I’ll show you how good I got now…”

  She takes the cigar from me and bites off the end. I can only stare as she places it between my lips and lights the end for me. She waits for me to smoke it, and I raise one of my hands to my lips, puffing out the smoke.

  “Lola Grace…” I say in a warning tone. “We can’t be doing this.”

  “Because of my mom?” she asks. Her hands go to her thighs and she holds onto the hem of her dress. I follow her fingers, completely mesmerized. I need her to take it off. I need to see that skin I’ve forced myself to forget about. Those tits that plague my dreams when I close my eyes. That sweet pink pussy that tastes so fucking good.

  “And because you fucked two guys for a porno film,” I remind her.

  “I did it for you,” she says spitefully.

  “Spare me the lies, Lola Grace.” I’m pissed now, though my cock is still hard beneath her. “You did it to prove something to yourself, not me. If I didn’t think you were a grown-ass woman, I wouldn’t have fucked you the night we met.”

  She looks pissed as fuck, and she pulls her dress off in one single motion. I curse out loud as I come face to face with her body. Her smooth navel, her perky tits in a sweet little pink bra, and her soaked pussy in those panties…it’s too fucking much.

  She reaches behind her back and undoes her bra. She shields her tits with one hand as she slips it off, dangling it in front of my eyes. I take a long smoke to distract myself.

  “Walk away, Max,” she tells me. “Walk away now if you can.”

  And I wish I could wipe that smug look off her face, but I’m no longer ruled by my mind. Instead, my cock reigns supreme and I know she’s won for now. I can’t even look away as she lets go of her tits. They bounce in place, the nipples stiff and begging to be sucked into my mouth. Jesus fucking hell, she’s going to make me cum in my pants.

  “We need to stop,” I tell her.

  “You haven’t done a thing, Maxwell Rivers,” she purrs. “But I bet you want to…”

&n
bsp; She takes my free hand, my fingers shaky as she presses them against her tits. My cigar almost falls from my hand as she makes me squeeze her nipples. Her tits are small and so fucking firm. I want to bury my cock between them. She’s making me lose my mind.

  Lola Grace laughs and takes the cigar from me, placing it on the desk carefully. My hand stays on the armrest of the chair, but she takes it and guides me to her hips. And then she starts grinding. My cock is straining so painfully against my pants I can feel every fiber of the cloth hurting my erection.

  “Want to leave?” she taunts me. “Door’s right there, walk away from me, Max. Walk out on me.” She leans in closer, her breath pure candy cane sugar against my lips. “Get out of here.”

  I don’t make a move, and she grins to herself.

  Her fingers go between her legs, and my eyes follow. She opens her legs wider and her fingers push the fabric of her panties aside. I take a sharp breath when I see how wet she is, her panties digging into her pussy. She pushes them further and shows me how soaked she is. Her clit is begging to be pinched, throbbing and engorged.

  She leans over to me, her tits brushing my lapel. “Don’t you want to fuck me?” she whispers in my ear. “You don’t want me to milk your cock with my pussy… Daddy?”

  I’m up in a second and she shrieks as I grab her hips, but the next second she’s laughing, laughing like she fucking got what she wanted. Goddamned little sex kitten is about to get taught a lesson.

  I bend her over my desk, holding her ass and her neck down so she can only wiggle under me. I place a hand on her shoulder blades and hold her the fuck down. My hand is up in the air.

  “That’s the last fucking time you’ll tease me like that,” I tell her. “You’re going to get punished.”

  “Like how?” she taunts. “Is Daddy gonna spank my ass?”