Savage: A Bad Boy Next Door Romance

by Penelope Bloom

  He half-turns in his chair, resting his elbow on the backrest and smirks at me.

  I slap the magazine down to my thighs and glare at him. “Stop staring at me.”

  “If you knew how fucking gorgeous you were, you wouldn’t ever ask me to stop looking at you.”

  I blush again. Dammit. Who talks like that? What kind of person just…I lift the magazine again, bending my neck down a little until I can’t see his perfect face still pointed directly toward me.

  I hear him stand and move toward me. He sits beside me on the couch, so close that his legs are against mine. I never thought such an innocent contact with another person could feel so sensual. My body practically explodes. Every nerve ending screaming for more, begging me for friction, for his skin against my skin and the heat of his body. I take a deep breath and begin to stand, but his arm flies out, grabbing me by the wrist and keeping me from leaving.

  “No,” he says.

  “Excuse me? Let me go.”

  His face is bathed in arrogance as he looks up at me from the couch, perfectly at ease. “Under one condition.”

  I want to tell him to go fuck himself, but the truth is I’m curious. What condition?

  “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to fuck me. Right now. Right here on this couch. Tell me you don’t want to wrap your hands around my cock and feel me inside you.”

  It feels like I just ran a mile at a full sprint. My mouth is dry, my heart is pounding so hard I feel it in my temples, and I can barely breathe. I look at his hand on my wrist and then back to his smoldering eyes. My eyebrows draw together in confusion as I try to piece together what he just said, making sure I heard him right.

  I’m not this kind of girl. I’m no prude, by any means, but I don’t just sleep with men I barely know. Even kissing a patient could mean losing my license to practice and wasting years of schooling. Hell, even if he wasn’t a patient, I don’t sleep with convicts either. I’ve never even dated a guy with a criminal record for Christ’s sake. So why the hell can’t I say it? Why are the words dying in my throat? No, I don’t want that. Why can’t I say it?

  28

  Leo

  I watch as she bites her full lips, large eyes taking me in hungrily. She wants to fuck me so bad it hurts her, I can see it as clear as day. From the moment I saw her tits pressing against the silk blouse and the way her hips swelled out from her waist in that cotton skirt, I knew it. Fuck. I knew I needed to have her. I’d normally give a girl a day or two to come around, but this isn’t just any girl. I don’t know what it is, but she has me floored. I will have her.

  “I don’t want to...fuck you right now,” she says. Her words come out dry, passionless. “I could lose my job.”

  A predatory smirk crosses my face. “And if I wasn’t your patient?” My hand is still on her wrist, the callouses of my palm feeling rough against her soft, milky skin.

  “That’s irrelevant, because you are my patient. Besides, it’s still unethical for me to be with anyone who has ever been a patient of mine.”

  “So you’re considering it?”

  She averts her eyes. “I was just informing you…”

  “I let her go but she doesn’t move. I glance at my watch. “In fifteen minutes, I won’t be your patient anymore.”

  “You have sessions booked for six months. And like I said, the ethics board would—”

  “Cancel them. I don’t feel I’m making progress here. I want to try another office.”

  Her eyebrows draw together. I can see how heavily she’s breathing. Her chest rises and falls like she’s out of breath. The vein in her neck pulses visibly, showing me how rapid her heart rate is. I lick my lips when I think about how wet she must be already. I bet I could sit her on that desk and slide my cock in right now.

  She moves slowly to sit on the other side of her desk and I lean back on the couch, watching her.

  “You want me to cancel your appointments?” she asks after a long pause.

  “Yes,” I say. “I don’t want to be your patient.”

  Her eyes dart up to me several times while she types something on her computer, chest still heaving. Goddamn. I don’t know if I’ve ever wanted to fuck someone so badly. Hell, I know I’ve never wanted it this bad. I’m not sure if it’s just my long dry spell in prison or if it’s how badly I want to see moans spilling from those full lips as I fuck her like she’s never been fucked before.

  I wait while she finishes what she’s doing. “It’s done. We still have ten minutes. Do you...want to talk?”

  “Come here,” I say.

  She stares at me in disbelief for a few seconds, but obeys, getting up from her chair and moving to sit beside me.

  “No,” I say, stopping her before she sits. “Stand in front of me.”

  My cock is rock hard as I watch her follow my commands, watching the way she still can’t seem to catch her breath. Her panties must be fucking soaked, but I’ll find out soon enough.

  “Take off your blouse.”

  Another long pause. The logical part of her brain is probably asking what the fuck she’s doing right about now. But if anyone knows how much power the body has over the brain, it’s me. I know her body is winning when her soft hands move to the bottom of her blouse, gripping it and hesitating.

  “Off,” I say.

  She lifts it slowly until I can see her tits pressed together between her bra, spilling over the top and practically begging to be touched. Her thick black hair is lifted up with her blouse and then falls back down, cascading over her shoulders and sinking into the crease between her tits.

  “Bra,” I say.

  A strange look enters her eyes and before I know what’s happening, she’s straddling me, hot mouth against mine, her warm tongue swirling in my mouth. Holy fuck. I’ve played this routine out with women before, and I’ve never seen a woman do what she just did. I normally get off on the submission, in watching my will dominate and subdue.

  I sit up, stripping off my jacket and throwing it to the floor. She grabs my shirt and rips it open, snapping several of the buttons off in the process. Her hands hungrily roam my body, squeezing my chest and exploring my abs. Her skirt is hiked up to her hips and I can see the hint of her lacy white panties as she grinds herself onto my throbbing cock. I can’t get my pants off fast enough as I strip the belt free and unzip them, sliding my pants and briefs down.

  I can feel the heat of her pussy against my cock and Jesus Christ...I’ve never felt a woman with a pussy so hot and wet. I can barely wait to plunge my cock inside her, but I know I need to taste her first. I pull her panties off and throw them deliberately on my jacket. I’m keeping those. I slam her down on the couch, lifting her until she’s propped against the armrest. I lean down and kiss her wherever I can reach; the neck, beneath her ears, between her tits, down her stomach, around her belly button, and finally in the crease where her pelvis meets her hips. I kiss my way down to her inner thighs, tracing a path around her pussy with my tongue and mouth as she writhes against me.

  29

  Julia

  I clap a hand to my mouth to avoid screaming out when his tongue plunges inside my entrance. Oh my God. No guy has ever done that before. My mind spins. None of this feels real. I don’t do things like this. But if this is what sex with ex-convict strangers is like, maybe I need to rethink that policy. I press myself into him, already so deep into my pleasure that I’ve left self-consciousness way behind. Except…

  Something in the back of my mind is begging for attention, going off like an alarm, but I can’t place it. I feel like I’m dreaming and the only part of my brain that’s turned on right now is the primal part, the part that only lives in the present and could care less about the past, future, or whether anything makes sense. I feel like I’m about to figure out what’s bothering me when I look down and see his beautiful face between my legs, lapping at my pussy like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

  It’s too much. I want him inside
me, and I want it now. I reach down, trying to pull him up, urging him to fuck me now while my body still quakes with anticipation.

  He leans off the couch to grab something from the pocket of his jacket. A condom. He expertly opens the package and gets the condom free and then frowns at it. “Fuck. It’s torn.”

  “Don’t you have another?” I ask. My voice comes out breathlessly.

  He tosses it to the ground dejectedly. “No.”

  “I don’t care. Fuck me anyway. I’m on the pill.” The words spill from my mouth before I can stop them. The full truth is that I’m normally on the pill, but I couldn’t afford the prescription last month and missed a few days. Normally, that would be more than enough to stop me, but my mind is running so fast I can’t seem to make myself stop. I just want him. I need him.

  I didn’t think he could hold any more heat in those fiery eyes of his, but they seem to blaze now as he looks down at me, fresh hunger rising in him. He eases himself down on top of me, letting the shaft of his cock rest against my engorged clit. He rocks his cock against me and crashes his mouth down on mine. He pulls his hips back, letting the tip of his cock slide down my valley and press against my entrance.

  God. He’s so big. How’s it going to fit? He doesn’t show any hesitation and plunges into me. I cry out this time, biting his shoulder to stifle the sound. Pain and pleasure swirl together until they are indistinguishable. My world is a blinding white hot ecstasy of smooth skin rubbing together and calloused hands roaming my flesh. I dig my fingers into him, unable to stop myself, every crease and bulge of muscle making me ravenously hungry for more. I pull myself up against his chest, using him as leverage to grind my hips deeper into him, taking an impossible amount of his cock inside me until I can feel my walls stretching.

  I fall back to the couch, letting my head tilt back and moaning when he bends to kiss my neck, sucking hard, marking me as his.

  “This...is...crazy,” I gasp.

  “That’s how you know it’s right,” he growls, taking me by the hips and pumping himself into me in a rhythm that has my nerves on fire with pleasure.

  My eyes roll back and I bite my lip so hard it hurts, cupping my tits and squeezing.

  He leans down, hips still driving into me as he whispers in my ear, voice so strong and seductive that it moves through me, caressing my body as if it has hands of its own. “When I’m...done with you,” he says, words punctuated by the slap of his cock plunging into me, “you’ll be ruined. You’ll only ever be able to...cum on my...fucking cock. You’re going to...crave me...like a fucking drug.”

  I dig my fingers into his back gasping when the floodgates of pleasure open, blasting me with blinding pleasure. My toes curl and I press my head back into the armrest, gasping. He doesn’t stop his pace, relentlessly fucking me like he could go on this way for hours. I marvel at him. He’s the way I imagine ancient warriors would have looked mounting their women, proud and strong, fierce in their desire and purely constructed. He has a body so perfectly crafted for sex and violence that it couldn’t even be dreamed up. He’s utterly irresistible and terrifying, and I’ve fallen deep into his trap.

  I see a change come over his face. He increases his pace, eyes closing and lips parting. He’s about to cum. I need to tell him to pull out, just in case, but the words might as well be lodged in my throat. I’m still squirming with pleasure from my orgasm and feeling the strong hints of another quickly approaching, and I haven’t been able to think straight since he walked in the room. He’s going to cum inside you and you haven’t taken the pill every day. Say something!

  “Wa—”

  He rams himself in me to the root, surprising me when his cock goes even deeper than before. I cry out as a second orgasm explodes from my core and floods my system with utter bliss. I feel his length pulse inside me and the warmth of his cum. It feels so good, but I know it was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. If I get pregnant, I just ruined my life.

  30

  Leo

  I watch her dress as I button what’s left of my shirt together. She really did a number on it, and I don’t think even my old tailor could fix this. Fuck it though. I’d trash a three thousand dollar suit for five minutes with her. She is acting strange though. Cold. Like she’s about to kick me out and say she never wants to see me again. That’s normally my line. I’m the one who says when it’s over and when we stop, not the other way around. For some reason, she hasn’t gotten the memo.

  “I think we went over our time,” I say.

  She blushes, stepping into her skirt and lifting it. She has her hands on the zipper and I’m buckling my belt when the door swings open. The douchebag in the dress shirt and slacks bursts in the room. “Hey, you have a client wa—” His eyes widen and his mouth drops open as he takes in what just happened. My jacket still lays on the ground with her wet panties on top of it. Her hair’s a mess and her cheeks are flushed. I still have a hard-on the size of a mag-light.

  “You…” he starts, face turning red.

  I grab him by the collar with one hand, slam the door behind him, and press him into the wall. “Breathe a word of this to anyone and you’re dead. I’ll come to your fucking house in the middle of the night and ram a knife in your fucking heart. Do you understand me?”

  “Y-you can’t talk to me like that. I’ll press charges.”

  “Go ahead, if you think the police can stop me from getting to you.”

  The red drains from his face until he’s pale white. “You can’t—”

  “You keep saying that,” I say, leaning closer and lowering my voice. “There’s not a thing in this fucking world I can’t and won’t do to you if you cross me.” I slam him into the wall by his shirt, making his head whip back and bang into the door. He winces in pain, reaching to grab the back of his head. I open the door and shove him through so roughly that he stumbles and falls on his face. He scrambles to his feet and rushes out of my view.

  “Leave,” says Julia. Her eyes are watering, but her face is as hard and cold as stone.

  “Leave?” I ask.

  “As in get the fuck out,” she says, coming toward me and pushing me by the chest.

  I look down at her small hands and her legs as she struggles to move me and smirk. “I’ll leave, under one condition.”

  “Fuck your conditions,” she snaps. “Do you know who that was? That was Ted Mulberry, my boss. He’s probably calling the ethics board right now to get my license revoked.” She stands up straight, fuming when she can’t force me out of the door and gives me a hard shove. “And because you decided to fucking seduce me, I just threw away eight years of schooling, and for what? So I could have your cum dripping down my leg and a five minute memory?”

  “Ten minutes. I think it was at least ten,” I say.

  Her nostrils flare and her lips press into a thin line. I think she’s actually about to take a swing at me and I have to stop myself from laughing. “Leave. Now!”

  “Only if you give me a kiss goodbye,” I say, sliding my arm around her waist and kissing her hard on the mouth. She resists at first, but I feel her soften at my touch, relaxing into me. Her tongue flicks against mine, and then I pull back. As I look at her standing there, hair in disarray and life in tatters because of me, I feel like shit. I really do, but I’m sure she’ll land on her feet. Hell, she’ll probably thank me in a few years for getting her fired. I’d hate working for that asshole.

  Still, I don’t feel good leaving like this. The thought is foreign to me, but I can’t help thinking she deserved better than the way I treated her.

  “I hate you,” she whispers as I leave.

  31

  Julia

  I’m curled on my couch with a thick blanket, feeling confused and angry. It was only five hours ago that Leo came into my life and left it in tatters. I canceled my appointments for the rest of the day, went home, tried to wash the shame from my body, and called Callie in tears. She has been my closest friend, even if she lives hours away in New Yor
k, I still talk to her over the phone several times a week. I’ve never been the type to unload my problems on people. I haven’t even told her about my mom and her cancer because I know she would offer to help me with the money, but I can’t do that to her. It’s only because of her charity that I was able to afford my last year of undergrad and get into grad school in the first place. I already owe her so much more than I can repay, but I didn’t know who else to talk to about this. I could have talked to Lauren, but she just started working at the same office as me recently and I don’t want to scare her away with a story like this.

  “Leo Citrione?” asks Callie. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive,” I say.

  “Holy shit. I think that’s Damian’s cousin. I thought he was in prison for… well, I probably shouldn’t say.”

  “Shit,” I say. “I’m a hell of a lot more worried about getting pregnant now. Apparently, the sperm count is really high in the Citrione men.” I guess I’ll have to go out and get a morning after pill later. I blush just thinking about how embarrassing that purchase will be.

  Tears well in my eyes. I have no idea what I’m going to do if I lose my license because of this, but I’ll figure something out. I’m not the type to dwell on feeling sorry for myself. I’ll pick up the pieces wherever they fall and make a new plan, even if it kills me. I made a mistake, and I’m going to live with it.