Bad Boy Next Door

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Bad Boy Next Door Page 16

by Leigh, Mara


  His eyes widened and he gasped. “Jade. I’d never.”

  “Bullshit.” I raised my chin. “I know men like you. You’re violent by nature, set off by anger. Sooner or later I’ll make you mad and you’ll hurt me. With you, I’d never be safe.”

  His face went white and he looked like he might bring up his burgers. He hung his head, shaking it side to side. When he raised his gaze, his eyes were glassy. I’d never seen so much hurt in anyone’s eyes, ever.

  “Jade. You’ve got to believe me. Tonight was… That wasn’t like me. And I’d never hit you. Never.”

  I knew domestic abusers made claims like that all the time… Thing was, I believed Nick. Part of me thought I shouldn’t, but my gut told me that the words coming out of his mouth matched what I knew to be true in my heart. Nick was a gentle man encased in the body of a brute. A gentle giant.

  What happened in the club wasn’t evidence of something he’d been hiding, it had been the exception. Melodie’s reaction had corroborated my gut.

  I took another sip of beer. It helped clear both my throat and my thoughts. It didn’t matter if the killer stuff wasn’t true. I couldn’t be with a criminal, not after all I’d gone through with my dad.

  “Tell me more about your brothers. Who do they work for?” This apartment complex was full of organized-crime types. “Do you work for the Nick who did my dad’s deal?”

  He shook his head. “The Downey brothers don’t work for anyone but themselves. Never have. And we—they, my brothers—” He took a deep breath. “They never get into anything too big, or anything that might end up on the cops’ radar. It’s all small stuff. Just enough to live on. Look at us. We’re not rich.”

  “Ever done any time?”

  “Juvie.”

  “What for?”

  “Lifting car parts from the Toyota dealership in Oakland. Got caught trying to sell the stuff to a mechanic in Fremont.”

  “Were your brothers arrested, too?”

  He leaned onto the table. “Mac and Dillon almost did, but they were over eighteen, so I told them to run. I tossed tire rims at the cops to give my brothers time to get away, then pretty much let the cops catch me. The judge said he’d let me off if I snitched, but I didn’t.”

  “Very admirable,” I said flatly, and he looked away. I could see the pain in his posture, his eyes, the set of his jaw.

  “My brothers,” he said. “We stick together. That’s what families do. I thought you’d understand that.”

  I did understand. And that’s what scared me about Nick. “You’re the youngest, right? You got drawn into this by your brothers.”

  He turned toward me. “I guess. But it’s not like you’re making it sound. No one forced me.”

  “Hard to imagine anyone forcing you into anything.”

  “I wasn’t born this big, you know.”

  “Thank god—for your mother’s sake, anyway.”

  His eyes teared up.

  I leaned toward him. “Shit. What did I say?”

  He blinked back the tears. “Mom died giving birth to me.”

  “Oh, Nick.” I reached for his hand and our fingers entwined.

  “It was preeclampsia. Nothing to do with me. But that didn’t stop my brothers from jabbing me about it.”

  “Jabbing you?”

  He shook his head. “Just kid stuff. Called me a mom killer. Beat me up. Like you said. I was the youngest. I got picked on a lot.” Letting go of my hand, he stood and then dropped down onto the sofa, sideways, leaving one foot on the ground and stretching the other leg out.

  He took the last sip of his beer, and I got us both another from the fridge. When I handed his to him, he lifted his other hand to my waist.

  I sat between his open legs and leaned against his chest.

  “What kinds of things did your brothers do when you were little?”

  “I can’t remember.”

  “Come on. You must remember some things.”

  He drained about half his beer. “I dunno. I was the smallest. They made me do their chores. They could pretty much make me do whatever they wanted. Not that I really minded. I looked up to them, especially Keagan.”

  “Sounds like you still look up to Keagan.”

  “Guess I do. He’s my big brother.” He set his beer on the floor.

  “Did they ever hurt you?” I ran my finger along a thin scar on his forearm.

  “Sure.” A short laugh burst from his chest. “We used to play this game, like tag, except when you got caught you got tied up against this tree in the backyard. The other guys threw stuff.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “I dunno.” His fingers trailed up my arm. “Stuff. Dirt, crab apples, balls, rocks, whatever was around. Tools.”

  “Tools? Like hammers?”

  “Sure. Screwdrivers, pliers, whatever Da left around.”

  “That’s dangerous. You guys could have killed each other.”

  “Brothers do that kind of stuff.” His fingers stroked my back. “They got me good a few times, though. Couple of times knocked me out.”

  “Knocked you out?”

  “By accident.” He shifted. “After that, they laid off me for a while. Got to the point where I hoped for a head shot, so I could fake passing out.”

  “That’s nuts!” I was suddenly glad I’d had only a sister. “And you threw stuff at your brothers, too?”

  “I guess.”

  “What do you mean, you guess?”

  “I’m the youngest.”

  “You were always the one caught and tied up?”

  “Pretty much. Maybe Shane a few times. Not sure.” He grunted. “But the tables turned when I hit my growth spurt.”

  “When was that?”

  “Around fourteen. Keagan was already an adult by then, 18 or 19.”

  “Wait.” I turned to lie sideways on his chest so I could see his face. “You’re telling me that there are five of you, and the age span is only four years?”

  “Five. Nearly five and a half, and Mac and Dill are twins.”

  “Wow. And your dad was on his own after you were born.”

  “Yup.”

  “Starting to understand the lack of discipline.”

  “Guess we were pretty wild.” His fingers traced circles on the small of my back.

  “But you’re done with all that.”

  “Playing tag and tossing things at my brothers’ heads?”

  I smirked. “The stealing. Whatever you used to do for your brothers.”

  “I was mostly the lookout. A few times when we highjacked trucks, I’d, um… Let’s just say my size and reputation helped convince the drivers to get out of the cab. Brute Squad. That’s me.”

  “Brute Squad?”

  “From The Princess Bride. I’m the Brute Squad.”

  “Were the Brute Squad,” I corrected.

  “Yeah, right.”

  “You just said you were done with it. Was that a lie?”

  “No.” He cupped my face in his hands. “I told my brothers I was done. A while ago. Before I met you…”

  That was a relief, yet nerves woke new fears.

  I was happy with his answer, but not my question. I’d sounded like a girlfriend, or a wife. That’s not what we were. Were we? Full-blown panic invaded.

  “Not that I get a say in what you do,” I said quickly. “I don’t care…”

  His shoulders jerked back.

  Fuck. I was treading in waters—with huge rapids—I lacked the skills to navigate. “Of course I care what happens to you, Nick. I don’t want to see you in jail.” I closed my eyes for a second. “But I don’t have any right—”

  “Jade.” He held my face in his hands. “It’s okay if you care what happens to me. I like that you do. I care what happens to you.” He shook his head. “Maybe a little too much, like tonight. Seeing you on stage like that—”

  “Now you’re saying I can’t be a dancer?”

  “That’s not what I said.”

&n
bsp; My emotions were flip-flopping like crazy. I expected him to be frustrated, even angry, but he stayed calm, patient as we talked this out.

  I liked that he cared about me and my life. I just wasn’t sure I liked that I liked it.

  I was independent—a badass—and letting Nick in was chipping away at the person I thought I was. I had never let anyone but a boss tell me what to do. And even with bosses, I had pretty hard limits.

  “Sorry.” I shifted against him and lay my head on his chest. “I know I’m all over the place. Guess I have a knee-jerk reaction when someone tells me what to do.”

  “I’d never tell you what to do, Jade, but I care, so I have opinions.” His hand stroked my thigh. “I want that to be okay with you. Just like it’s okay for you to have opinions about my life.”

  That sounded an awful lot like a relationship, but instead of putting me off, his words spawned warm fuzzies in my belly. And down lower.

  “My dad was a two-bit criminal.” I needed Nick to understand all my crazy. “He was always around crime, organized crime—doing favors, lookout stuff, giving and getting information. But mostly he was a petty thief. Broke into places…”

  I snuggled under his arm. “Frank stayed on the fringes of the gangster life, but I saw what a toll it took—on his life, on Crystal’s and mine. He was always in and out of jail, never able to find a good job, always afraid of being caught, even when he wasn’t doing anything wrong. I can’t…” I can’t ever be with a criminal.

  I couldn’t quite say the words. Not because it wasn’t true, but because of what the words implied—that I wanted to be with Nick, that I was thinking about him in those terms—long-term. That I was thinking about forever.

  Nick cupped my face with his hands, lifting my gaze to meet his. “I already quit doing stuff with my brothers, but even if I hadn’t, I would now. You make me want to be better, Jade.

  “I get that you won’t be with a criminal. You’re too good for that, and it’s one of the things I love about you. And after what you’ve gone through with your dad…” He kissed me softly. “Don’t worry. I’m out of that life.”

  One of the things he loved about me… The word love filled my chest as his kiss erased my fears, taking me to places even more foreign and wonderful than sleeping over.

  And I liked it. I loved it. I might even love Nick. But it all seemed too much to contemplate at once. Too scary to imagine. I needed to lighten the mood…

  I pulled back from the kiss. “Hey, you’re still my sex slave for the rest of the week, right?”

  He nodded. “What is your command?”

  I grinned. “You. On the bed. Now.”

  Twenty-Three

  Nick

  “What’s this scar from?” Jade drew her finger along the side of my ribs.

  I strained my hips away from the bed, my cock desperate to be touched, but she wouldn’t go near it.

  “Not sure.” I could barely get out the words as her fingers trailed across my lower belly, tickling the hair there.

  I was so ready to come.

  She’d upped her game after I’d broken those handcuffs, and I tugged at my restraints. She’d tied socks and T-shirts around my wrists and ankles, then used T-shirts and sweats to link through the socks. Those makeshift ropes were tied tightly to the four legs of my bed.

  I could lift my head, buck my hips a few inches, but nothing else could move. It was like she had me on a rack.

  “Easy there.” She traced circles on my abs. “Before you come, I need answers about all your scars. After that, you might get what you want, if you’re a good boy.” Her mouth drifted deliciously close to the head of my cock, so close I felt her breath on the rock-hard rod. Not close enough. Her hair brushed against my sensitive skin.

  I groaned, my arousal reaching a near-painful stage.

  “Let’s check out these legs.” She moved down the bed, and my neck strained as I kept my eyes on her. Her thin tank top hung down from the weight of her breasts, giving me an awesome visual, and I licked my lips, wanting to suck her nipples into my mouth.

  “How about this knee?” She pressed a kiss against a scar.

  “Not from brotherly torture,” I choked out. “Fell off the shed roof onto a pile of old lumber.”

  “And which brother goaded you onto that shed?” She licked the inside of my thigh.

  “Oh, god, Jade.”

  “Answer me.” She dug her nails into my skin.

  “Shane.”

  “So it is a brother-induced scar. That makes seventeen, and I still have another leg, plus your back.”

  “Please…” I strained. It was a wonder I hadn’t yet broken the legs of the bed.

  “Don’t worry. My examination of your back will have to wait.” She crawled next to my chest and smiled. “If I flipped you onto that throbbing rod, you’d jerk yourself off on the sheets. Plus, turning you would be too much work. If only I had the technology…” She shot me a devilish look that almost made me come on its own.

  Being tied down was not something I’d thought I’d like, but this was fucking hot.

  She kissed her way up my thighs, and I bailed on trying to watch. Seeing her just made the torture of not being able to touch her worse. Resting my head on the mattress, I closed my eyes.

  Her lips and hands teased my inner thighs and my hips, and her hair danced around my junk without a pattern, keeping me guessing, taking my need to such a desperate place I could barely stand it.

  Her tongue lapped my balls. and my body tensed so hard I wondered why the bed didn’t jump off the floor.

  “Fuck.”

  “Did you like that?”

  “What do you think?” My voice came out hard, gruff, animalistic.

  Her hands slid up to my stomach, and she sucked one of my balls right into her mouth.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Stars went off behind my closed eyelids, and it was all I could do not to come.

  She switched to the other ball, and her hand slid onto my cock. Finally.

  Her fingers trailed up and down my shaft, softly teasing, while her mouth fondled my balls. In all of my wildest wet dreams, I’d never imagined such achingly strong pleasure.

  I felt desperate for her to end it by taking me fully into her mouth—better yet, her pussy—but at the same time, I never wanted these feelings to end.

  Her mouth left my balls, and the cool air of the room joined the dampness to tease my sensitive skin. Her fingers traced my abs, teased through my pubes and stroked everywhere—everywhere except where I most wanted.

  After what felt like hours of agony, she took my dick into her mouth, starting slowly. She kissed the tip, lapped down the sides, then lightly held the base and circled the head with her tongue. My hips strained, trying to force myself into her mouth, but I couldn’t move enough with the constraints.

  “Look at me,” she said.

  I lifted my head as far as I could. Her cheeks were flushed, pupils wide, hair wild. She was the goddamned hottest creature I had ever seen. At some point she’d removed her panties, but not the tank.

  Holding me with one hand, she dipped her fingers through her pussy, and her body responded to her touch, her back arching, her breath catching ever so slightly as her skin pinked even more.

  She released my cock and stood on the bed, straddling my body, one hand still between her legs. Yes, I thought. Yes.

  “Ride me. Please.”

  With a salacious grin, she shook her head and instead positioned herself over my chest, knees slightly bent. It gave me the perfect view. She parted her lips with one hand and drew a finger along the darkened pink folds with the other. Her fingertips slid and circled her opening, and the muscles fluttered like they were begging for penetration.

  Her pussy was slick and wet and swollen with redness, and my tongue lapped out, licking my lips, the air, mimicking the things I longed to do to her.

  Her index finger slipped inside her sweet pussy, and her hips jerked. She was such a marvel, so responsive to e
ven her own touch. Her middle finger joined in, and I panted as she fucked herself above me, stroking her swollen clit as the velocity of the plunging grew more urgent.

  My arms strained against their bindings. The bed groaned. She took one hand away for a few seconds, just long enough to rip off the thin tank top, revealing her breasts, her nipples hardened into tight little points.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  She opened her eyes and looked directly into mine.

  Her fingers slowed, and as I looked into her eyes, I felt like I was floating above my body, drifting up to join hers, entwining us at such a deep level neither would survive if the bond ever broke.

  “Jade,” I said on a deep exhale and meaning, I love you.

  “Nick.” My name from her lips surrounded me in warmth, like she’d meant the same thing.

  I opened my lips to say the words aloud, but she knelt, moving her knees alongside my outstretched arms, and then lowered her slick, hot pussy to a place where I could reach it. I’d never felt so hungry, so needy.

  I licked and jabbed into her cunt, circled and flicked her clit, kissed and nibbled everywhere my mouth could reach, with frenzy, like an animal eating after months of starvation.

  Her moans of pleasure egged me on, and her hips slid, guiding my mouth to where she most wanted. Her pelvis tipped, and I locked onto her clit, creating a vacuum seal with my lips and sucking and flicking with my tongue as her hips rocked above my face. She cried out in pleasure as her body convulsed.

  After her last few jerky pulses, she slid her sex away from my face, shifting down to kneel over my ribs, then lay on top of me as we breathed hard and gathered ourselves back together.

  Her body remained draped over mine like a soft blanket, and I buried my nose in her hair, loving the smell of her: lemons, vanilla, combined with something decidedly Jade. As our breathing slowed, it synchronized, and I loved how my chest made her body rise and fall on top of mine. How each exhale moved her teasingly closer to my still rock-hard cock.

  I’d never felt such a desperate need for release, never been so painfully hard, but at the same time I was content with her skin pressed against mine, her breath bathing my chest.

 

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