Begging for Bad Boys

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Begging for Bad Boys Page 10

by Willow Winters


  He cums with me, his thick cock pulsing and filling me. His cum spills from my pussy and down my thighs, mixing with the arousal that made it so easy for him to fuck me like that.

  It’s because I want him.

  That’s why he could take so much from me.

  Because I’m so willing to give it to him.

  Chapter 12

  Derek

  I run my fingers along the small silver pebbled frame sitting on the edge of my desk. It’s a picture of me and Emma. It’s been a couple of weeks, and Ma ordered me a picture frame. She said jokingly that I should have some evidence I could hold down a girl. I huff a laugh, remembering her jab. She thinks she’s funny.

  It’s a good picture of the two of us, too. Emma had it; she kept it from all those years ago.

  She took it in my car, lying next to me, holding her hand up as we lay across the back seats. The two of us are smiling. I can’t think of another picture I have where I’m smiling unless it’s forced. Ma used to make us get pictures together. She said it was important. I know she wanted me to get them because she thought she was dying. She wanted me to have a picture of the two of us, so I could remember her when she was gone.

  In those pictures with her, I’m not really smiling. I hated getting them done. I only agreed to take them because I knew my ma needed them. I forced each smile for her. But they're not real.

  I tap my finger against the edge of the silver picture frame.

  Emma never showed me the pictures she took of us. I knew she wasn’t gonna show anyone anyway, so it didn’t matter to me. I didn’t even know why she wanted them herself.

  I’m glad she did though. Looking at the happiness in her eyes and the way I’m glancing at her rather than looking at the camera, I remember the way she made me feel back then. It’s stronger now, which surprises me. It’s hard to believe that I can feel more for her today than I did in high school. I guess things haven’t changed much at all. We just picked up right from where we left off.

  I think I remember that day, but there were so many of them where we did just that. Lay together in the back of my car, just holding each other and kissing. Some days I let my hands roam along her body.

  A few times, she climbed on top of me. That’s the most we ever did, when she’d grind against my hard cock. The first time she did it, I didn’t even realize she was doing it on purpose. It drove me crazy, the slow grinding of her pussy against my dick.

  The corners of my lips kick up into a small smile. I’ll never forget that. I’ll never let her forget that either. I made my good girl do bad things. I made her want bad things. I still do.

  The days are flying by, but each day she seems to get more and more comfortable in my arms again. It helps that she isn’t around any of the shit I’m doing. I sigh heavily, running my hands through my hair. I don’t know how long I can keep this up. I’m putting off meets to go see her. I’m letting assholes get away with stupid shit, too. Which isn’t a good look. Tony never fails to remind me of that.

  Although if Emma saw the shit I’m doing today, she wouldn’t have any concerns. I click on the mouse to get over to my emails again. It’s just paperwork. All day I go through contracts for the businesses in my name. The legit ones. It’s boring shit, but it needs to be done.

  Everything is streamlined, but I still have my hand in every piece of the operation.

  I didn’t get far by handing off work to other people. The details are what matter. Being present matters. Every day I come to this office. Every problem goes through me. That’s how it should be. I’m the boss, so I have to act the part. Everyone needs to know I’m here.

  It’s an important part of being respected. If I’m not doing the work, why would they even give a fuck about me? I could easily be replaced. I can handle the business end of the companies and restaurants I own all day long. But lately I’m falling short on the dealing and supplying end of things

  The thought sends a chill down my spine, but at the same time a feeling of ease flows through me.

  A knock at my door steals my attention and draws my eyes up.

  “Who is it?” I ask loud enough for whoever it is to hear.

  “It’s me, boss,” Tony says from the other side of the door.

  “Come on in,” I tell him.

  My office door opens, and I push the picture frame away. He’s seen it already. I’m not hiding it; I just don’t like looking at Emma when I'm talking business.

  Tony’s got a stack of mail in his hands, one envelope already open. He tosses the envelopes on the desk in front of me and hands me the one that’s open.

  “Just some bills.” I take the one he’s opened and glance at it. “I didn’t know Ma wasn’t takin’ the chemo anymore.” There’s a bit of hurt in his voice, as if I kept it from him.

  My body chills at his statement. “She’s doing something different.” He’s always calls her Ma. Growing up next to each other, growing up so closely, she was his mother, too.

  He grew up with his grandma, but she passed away a few years ago. She was never really there for him anyway. It wasn’t her fault; she just wasn’t ready to take care of a young kid when she was so old. His mom up and left though, leaving his grandma no choice.

  “They’re trying this new thing.” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose and waving my hand in the air, trying to remember what they called the pills. “It’s still chemo, just in pill form. They said it'll help without making her body so weak.”

  “Is it helping?” he asks.

  “I don’t know.” It’s a cocktail. Another one. Just a different mixture of the same shit. I shake my head, trying not to think about it. Ma’s not looking any better. She says she’s not feeling any better either.

  “I was talking to her yesterday,” Tony says casually. I know he's faking being relaxed though. He’s not looking at me; instead he’s looking out the window of the office. I know him well enough to know that he’s got something he doesn’t want to tell me. He’s holding back.

  “Oh yeah?” I ask.

  He takes a seat in the chair across from me. His body’s a little stiff, although he’s trying not to show it. It’s making me nervous. We share everything, and I don’t know what the hell’s going on with him right now.

  “Yeah.” His fingers tap nervously against the armrest as he clears his throat. “She was asking about the special stuff.” The bastard has the nerve to look me in the eyes as he says that.

  The special stuff. The shit that’s meant to make death fast and easy. Given in their sleep.

  It means she’s asking for a way to die. My throat dries up instantly. I struggle to breathe, and I can’t even swallow. It’s not the first time she’s done this. I look away and out the window.

  A few weeks ago she was asking me for it. Not outright, but just hinting around about it. I couldn’t take it. I don’t want her to talk like that. And I couldn’t let her do that to herself. I’m not letting her give up. She’s going to beat this.

  “You better be careful, Tony,” I tell him slowly, finally facing him again. My voice is gruff. It almost cracks. I almost looked weak in front of him. I’ve never thought of him as an enemy, but right now, that’s exactly what he looks like to me. He throws his hands up in defense. Again he has the nerve to look me in the eyes. “I’m just telling you what she said.” He shakes his head somewhat, but there’s a look in his eyes I don’t trust. “I just wanted you to know.”

  “I know.” My voice gets louder and I can’t help it, but my emotions are taking over. I hold onto the anger more than anything else. That’s the one I can handle.

  I push back the sense of betrayal I feel over her for wanting to end it. For not trying. For being willing to leave me. I can’t take it. My voice cracks this time, but I don’t care as I say, “She’s gonna fight this.” My fist slams against the desk. “She’s going to beat this.” I feel unhinged, like a beast trapped in a cage, trying desperately to get out. Fighting just to live. Fighting for her to live.
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  “I hear you, Derek.” His voice is shaky, and his eyes glass over. “You know she’s my Ma, too.” The only thing that saves him right now is that he’s getting emotional. I stare at him for a long time without speaking, just breathing, trying to keep myself restrained. I hate that he even brought it up. What’s worse is I hate that it’s true. I don’t doubt him for a second. I’m sure she asked him for it.

  “What’d you tell her?” I ask him.

  “I told her I’d ask you.” This time he doesn’t look at me. He keeps his eyes trained on the pile of papers on my desk. His voice is low and full of pain. “She shouldn’t have to live like this.” I glare at him, willing him to look me in the eye, and give him a deadly look. “It’s spreading.” Although his voice is quiet, the words slam against me as though he screamed them.

  “Shut up, Tony.” I get out of my chair so fast that it rolls back and it hits the wall hard behind me. I tower over him and shout, “Get out!” I stare at him, willing him to leave before I lose my shit and beat the piss out of him.

  He gets up without a word. The only sound in the room is the scraping of the chair legs against the wooden floor.

  I’m breathing heavy as he opens the door and then slams it behind him.

  I spend thousands of dollars a month. I’ll spend thousands more. Whatever it takes, I’ll pay them. That’s worked for years. It’s what fueled my desire to rise to the top. It’s the only thing I’ve worked for. The only reason I took this path back then. I needed the cash. I needed to help her. She still needs me, but what else do I have to give her?

  All the money in the world, and it can’t save her.

  What good is it? What good is any of it?

  I grip the desk to keep myself standing upright, my chest heaving with each breath. My eyes fall on the picture. The one of me and Emma, in the frame Ma gave me. I instantly reach for my phone and call her.

  I need my sweetheart. I need her to take this pain away.

  Chapter 13

  Emma

  I’ve spent the last few days with Derek, as in barely leaving his sight; he only left this morning because he had to. Something’s wrong, but he won’t tell me what. I’ve seen his mom, and she isn’t telling me anything either.

  Other than my paranoia, things are falling back into place, just like when we were back in high school except it isn’t a secret anymore. We spend most of our days tangled up together, but the same problems that ripped us apart are staring straight back at me. I don’t want to fall for him only to wind up brokenhearted. I can't handle going through what I went through last time, because it will be so much worse this time.

  I slowly walk down the stairs after taking a long, hot shower. I’m not in a rush to do anything.

  The clinking of dishes tells me Sandra’s in the kitchen.

  I walk unhurriedly to her, my fingers trailing along the wall as I stare at the faded designs in the paisley runner that lines the hallway.

  Sandra looks over her shoulder as I enter the kitchen. “Hey chica,” she says with a smile and returns to the dirty dishes and suds.

  “Hey,” I say listlessly. I grab a bottle of water from the stainless steel fridge and sit down at the kitchen table in the corner, playing with the plastic cap. “What does Tony do?” I ask her.

  “He’s employed by Derek.” She turns her head to talk while she's scrubbing a frying pan. “Technically it's Wade LLC. Or something like that. I'm not really sure.” And with that, she turns back to the sink. As if knowing a company's name is all that matters.

  “But what does he do?” I pry. I need to know if she knows about all of Derek’s businesses. Specifically the one that’s making me freak out. I try to take a sip of water, but I don’t want it. I set it back down on the table and pick up the cap, rolling it between my fingers.

  “I don't know. Do you know what he does?” she challenges. She drops the frying pan she just washed into the dish drainer a little harder than necessary. My eyes fly to hers.

  “No,” I say easily, not wanting to fight with her. “That's why I'm asking you.” I start peeling the label off my water bottle, picking at the edges slowly. I don't want to piss Sandra off, but I don't know how she handles Tony dealing, and all the dangers that come with it. No matter what Derek says, I know it’s not safe.

  Sandra huffs out a deep breath. “He mostly works in the greenhouse. That's what he told me.”

  “And you believe him?” He's Derek’s best friend. I can't believe that he only works in the greenhouse. I can’t see a man like Tony watering plants and picking leaves or whatever the hell they do.

  Her body tenses. She turns off the water and turns around to face me, picking up a dishtowel off the counter. She's pissed off. “Yeah, of course I do. He wouldn't lie to me,” she says as she dries her hands. She leans against the dark granite countertop, facing my direction.

  I stare at my water bottle, rather than her. I can feel her watching me rip my water bottle label up. This isn’t about her or Tony.

  “I don’t ask questions, Emma,” she says after a long moment, breaking the silence.

  “I just have to,” I confess as I turn to look at her. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I can’t just pretend anymore.

  She walks over to the kitchen table and sits down next to me. Her expression softens as she finally realizes I’m not here to fight with her over her decisions. She puts her hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently; it’s a compassionate touch, and one that I needed. “Yeah, I did, too. But the thing is… he can’t just walk away. And he’s doing the best he can. The bad things… sometimes they happen. But I don’t wanna hear about them. I don’t wanna be a part of it. You know?” she tells me, her eyes wide and pleading.

  “But don’t you love him?” I don't understand how she can just turn a blind eye to what's going on.

  “Of course I do,” she says sincerely.

  “Then I don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head.

  Exasperated, she stands up and walks back to the sink. “Just don't ask questions, Emma.”

  I stare at her back as the sound of running water hits my ears, wondering how she does it. I don't think I can do it. I clean up the shredded label, throw it in the trash, and head back upstairs, my chest hurting and feeling more conflicted than I did before I approached her.

  I fall onto my bed, burying my head into my pillow. What am I going to do? I'm falling for Derek. Hard. I knew I would. I was so stupid to do this. Stupid to get involved with him again.

  It's going to rip me to shreds when this tears us apart. I lift my head up and stare at the grey and white area rug on top of the hardwood floor.

  I don't see how it could end differently this time. Derek is still bad news. I need to focus on school and my career. I've worked so hard; I can't fuck it up now. I can’t see a future with him, not with him doing this shit.

  I want one though. God help me, I want a life with him. I wish I didn’t know.

  I swallow thickly and ignore how I'm feeling. When I leave the state and go back to school, I’m sure things will change. The distance will make it easier. That’s what the real problem is. We’re like magnets drawn to one another, needing each other’s touch. We need space between us. The very thought makes me hate myself. But I can’t lie to myself anymore. He’s not good for me.

  I grab my books from my Kate Spade bag that’s lying on the dresser. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, my back leaning against the headboard, I decide to bury myself in work. That’s all I’ll have when he’s gone anyway. The realization makes me feel so empty.

  There are so many topics in this book that relate to him; children growing up with an abusive parent, children and teens turning to drugs to help them cope.

  The back of my head bangs against the headboard.

  I shove the book away and lie down. I put my hands over my eyes. They feel so cool. It's so comfortable. I turn lazily and grab the remote off the nightstand, turning on the TV. I just need to do something mindless. T
urning onto my side, I put the throw pillow between my knees and cover up with the white crocheted blanket neatly folded at the end of the bed. I flick through the channels until I find the Lifetime Movie Network. There's some love story-turned-murder mystery on.

  This is exactly what I need to do, just veg out and relax.

  Halfway through the movie, my phone goes off. It shakes me out of a near-sleep state, and it’s then that I hear Sandra in her room. I’m not sure what she’s doing, but I stretch and let out a small yawn before leaning across the bed to grab my phone.

  It's Derek.

  “Hi,” I answer the phone as if nothing’s wrong. But my heart hurts. I feel like I’m betraying him. I pick at the crocheted blanket as he talks.

  “Hi, sweetheart.” His voice is gravelly; he sounds upset. My stomach twists into knots. Something’s wrong. My mind immediately goes to his mom.

  I sit up on the bed, concerned. My heart races in my chest. “Are you okay?”

  He sighs before answering, “I'm having a rough day. I could really use a distraction.” I clench my teeth and close my eyes. He always does this. He’s not going to tell me shit. I ball the blanket in my hand and wait a moment.

  When I don’t respond, he adds, “I want you to come over.”

  I really should tell him no. I should start distancing myself from him. But I can't do that to him now.

  He's not okay. He needs me. I throw the blanket off me and climb out of bed.

  “I’ll be there soon.”

  Chapter 14

  Derek

  I stare at the TV screen in the living room. It’s playing something mindless. The soft sounds of the background music fill the room. I’m not paying any attention though. I’m just waiting for Emma.

  She should be here soon. I left work early. I can’t get anything done thinking about what my Ma asked Tony about. My eyes focus on the hallway. Ma’s bedroom door is open. She’s reading her books, just like always. When I came home I had intended on asking her why she did it. Why she felt the need to go to him. Why she felt the need to give up.

 

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