Sweetest Sin: Bad Boy Bundle

by Delilah Wilde

  “Oh god Dane,” she moaned. Her eyelashes fluttered closed and she bit her lip, “That feels so good. Keep going.”

  That was all the encouragement I needed. I put her legs over my shoulders in order to penetrate her more deeply and quickened my pace. Every thrust brought me closer and closer to the point of no return. Based on Savannah's moans, she was rapidly approaching her own orgasm. I reached down and caressed her breasts. This was the final straw for her. I watched as her back arched and her hands dug into the seat. She screamed my name as she reached her climax. Seconds later I followed suit and came inside her.

  We got cleaned up and I collapsed beside her, too drunk with passion to even care what it meant. I didn't object when she pulled my arm around her. I just held her as the limo continued to drive. Of course, that beautiful silence couldn't last forever.

  “What now?” she asked, looking up at the ceiling. It was a good question.

  Savannah

  Mark didn't die and no one got sued. We waited a few days for the letter from his legal team and when it finally arrived we read it with baited breath. Well, I did. Dane made out like he didn't care, though I'm sure he did. No matter how much money he had a lawsuit had the potential to take a good chunk out of it.

  All Mark wanted was for Dane to pay for his teeth. He wanted gold ones, which I thought was pushing it a little bit but Dane reluctantly agreed. If it would get him off of his case then it would all be worth it.

  For a few days the two of us didn't face reality. We barely left the house because we were fucking so much. By the time a week had passed we had fucked in every room in the house and I'd fallen asleep in his arms every night. It didn't make me feel any less confused about our relationship or lack thereof. We didn't talk about it. We didn't talk about anything real. All we did was talk about food, or movies or other banal things. It was safer that way. That way, no one got hurt. There was no more talk of me going home. We just existed for a while.

  That peaceful existence couldn't last forever, of course. It was soon shattered and real life came and bit us in the ass.

  Dane was showing me how to make pasta from scratch one evening when the doorbell rang. We both froze in place. The whole time we had been here together, no one but Dane's driver had called. The front gate had a pass code so anyone who got as far as the front door knew it. Either that or some crazed fan had climbed over the gate. Dane told me that it had happened before. He was the first to take action.

  “Don't look so scared, it's probably just a friend,” he said, washing his hands, “I'll get it.”

  I followed him out to the hallway. He didn't even bother to put a shirt on before he answered. After fooling around, getting dressed had felt like a big effort. Dane just wore his jeans and I wore his t-shirt, which was so long on me that it was almost hitting my knees. He liked the way I looked in his clothing for some odd reason. I didn't question it. Between us we had a full outfit.

  He opened the door and gave a groan at the sight of the person standing there. It was an older man, maybe in his late thirties, dressed in a business suit.

  “What the fuck do you want?” asked Dane, reluctantly letting him in.

  “Well you haven't been answering my calls, so I figured I'd see how you were doing. Mmm, what's that smell,” he said. Then he spotted me, “Have you been cooking, little lady?”

  Dane crossed his arms and smirked at me. He knew me far too well. Pet names were one of the many ways a man could get on my bad side.

  “No, I haven't. Dane has and we only have enough for two. And my name's not little lady. It's Savannah,” I said. The man gave a low whistle and looked back at Dane.

  “I like the ones who don't talk back,” he said. Then he grinned at me, but I knew he wasn't joking. Something about him made me massively uncomfortable. I wished that he'd just leave the two of us in peace.

  “Savannah talks back all right. She'll punch too, if you get her worked up enough,” said Dane. He put his hands in his pockets and lazily strolled back to me, “This is Craig, Savannah. He's my manager. Basically the cum stain on the crusty sock that is my life.”

  I sniggered. Craig laughed too but I could see that he didn't appreciate being the butt of the joke. Despite the ribbing, Dane made an extra serving of pasta for Craig and invited him to have dinner with us. I willed him to turn down the offer but the greedy bastard was delighted at the chance to eat Dane's cooking. So the three of us sat around the kitchen table eating our pasta and making small talk. It was torture. Craig kept trying to talk business but Dane insisted that we had to wait until the meal was finished. The whole time we were eating he kept his hand on my thigh, squeezing it every time Craig said something particularly ignorant or funny.

  It wasn't long before every scrap of food had been demolished. There was no more procrastinating to be done. Dane had to talk shop or we'd be here all night long.

  “So, what's the problem now?” asked Dane, “Is it Mark? 'Cos I swear to god if he is causing any trouble I will fucking end him. I will.”

  Craig laughed nervously and looked at me.

  “No, no. Don't be silly. Mark's perfectly happy with his new teeth and the swelling's gone right down,” he said, “Say Savannah, why don't you toss these dishes into the sink like a good girl and give us guys some alone time?”

  I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes at him. The only person who got to call me a good girl was Dane, and that was just during sex. Even he wouldn't get away with it under normal circumstances. “No, she can stay,” said Dane, before I could say anything, “I don't mind her hearing stuff.”

  Craig sighed.

  “If you say so. I need to talk to you about this whole relationship thing you've got going on here,” he gave me a withering glance.

  “It's not a relationship,” I said, before Dane could say it first and break my heart. Dane looked at me, awestruck for a moment. Then he looked back at Craig and nodded.

  “She's right. It's not a relationship.”

  Craig looked at my Grandma's emerald ring and frowned until I let my hand slip under the table. “I don't care what it is, frankly. What I care about is what it looks like and it looks like a relationship to everyone looking in,” he said.

  “We've barely left the house together,” said Dane. It was true. The only times we'd been bothered to go out was when we needed to pick up food. Even then, we only went as far as the grocery store a few blocks down. Dane hadn't even been recognized during those shopping trips. If he had, no one had commented on it.

  Craig picked his briefcase up and pushed our pasta dishes away so that he could put it up on the table. He pulled out a handful of magazines and threw them down on the tables. The one on top, one of the tackiest celebrity gossip rags that I wouldn't have been caught dead spending my money on, had us on the cover. I was holding a cartoon of milk and blushing, a shy smile on my face. Dane had his arm around me and he was kissing the top of my head. If any of my friends had a candid photo like that with their boyfriends it would have been an immediate candidate for profile picture. For the two of us, it apparently spelled out disaster. The magazine had tagged it 'Loved up? Read all about the bad boy and the woman who tamed him on page 3'.

  Craig showed us the pictures, the articles, the interviews with 'close sources'. As far as these magazines were concerned, Dane and I were practically married. If only they knew the truth! However, this was apparently a very negative thing.

  One magazine even printed a rather unflattering picture of me bending over to pick up my phone after dropping it. The angle was so bad that it made me look like I had a stomach pooch. According to the magazine, this meant that I was definitely pregnant. Possibly with twins.

  I looked up to see Dane's reaction the pictures, but his face was unreadable. He flicked through the magazines and skimmed the articles without saying a word.

  “This is suicide for your image,” said Craig, “No one wants to hire a bad boy with a ring on his finger. Your appeal is your lack of attainabili
ty. It makes women want you and men aspire to be like you. No man wants to be married before he's thirty.”

  I looked at Dane, willing him to defend me, to defend us. To tell Craig that he didn't give a shit about his image, that he just wanted to be with me. It was too much to ask for, of course.

  “How can we undo all of this,” asked Dane, refusing to meet my eye. Craig gave a sigh of relief. “Thank god, you're finally seeing sense. I was afraid I'd lost you there. First off, I think we need to nix the ring,” he looked at me, “Sienna, you're gonna have to stop wearing that out in public.”

  I did my best not to audibly growl at him. I didn't even correct him when he got my name wrong. “I also think it would be good for you to be seen out with other women. They can be famous or not famous, the choice is yours. Just make sure you're hands on, if you know what I mean,” said Craig. He winked and nudged Dane, but Dane didn't respond to it, “Don't be afraid to be affectionate like you are with her. It'll make people think that you're like that will all the girls.”

  Craig gave me a nervous glance.

  “No offense honey, it's just business,” he turned back to Dane, “Do you think you can do that?” “Sure,” Dane said, “Shouldn't be too hard.”

  “And maybe...maybe you two should spend some time apart? It's a good way of figuring out what you really want. You might figure out that you don't want a relationship at all,” said Craig.

  “Maybe,” said Dane.

  Craig hung around for a while longer though it annoyed the shit out of both of us. We had to talk and we both knew it. The longer he stayed longer it would be before we got things straight. Somehow I knew that wouldn't be easy.

  Eventually, he left the two of us alone. Dane closed the door behind him and refused to turn around to face me.

  “You're making your face, aren't you?” he said.

  “What face?” I asked, my voice shaking. Dane turned around and groaned.

  “See. That face. You're upset,” he said. I bit my lip. Was I really that obvious? I knew that I was terrible at hiding my emotions at the best of times, but I was really trying to maintain a poker face for this. It just didn't work. Suddenly, the waterworks started.

  “Oh god, don't cry!” said Dane.

  “I can't help it!” I said. Dane sighed but pulled me into a tight hug. “I thought you liked me.” For a moment he just held me and I thought he wasn't going to respond. Then he pushed my hair aside and whispered into my ear.

  “I do like you.”

  I pushed him away from me.

  “Then why didn't you defend me against all that horrible shit he was saying? Why did you just stand there and let him disrespect me?” I exclaimed. Dane put out his hands for me but I backed away, “No, don't touch me!”

  “All right, all right,” Dane put his arms by his side, “He wasn't disrespecting you. He was just laying out the facts for both of us. My career will be ruined if people think I'm in a relationship.” “You're not in a relationship. You made that very clear,” I folded my arms.

  “Yes, well that's true. I'm not in a relationship and neither are you. But we have been spending a lot of time together...” he started. Jesus, he was seriously siding with his idiot of a manager. This was unreal.

  “You didn't complain when I was sucking your dick. I think you enjoyed that a lot, actually,” I said.

  “Savannah, I liked all of it. Not just the sex. But relationships are bad for my image and...” he paused and took a deep breath, “They're bad for me. I just don't do well in them.”

  “Right. All right. OK. That's fine. It's about time that I left anyway!” I spat. Dane asked me to stay for one more night but I told him where he could get off.

  “It's dark and you don't know the city. You don't have anywhere to go!” he said, as I shoved my things into a plastic bag. Little did he know.

  Mark picked me up just after midnight as Dane looked on. I didn't even say goodbye. That would teach me to get sentimental.

  Dane

  Like I said before, I had a relationship once. Her name was Rose and she was nice. I liked the way she looked and she liked the way I looked. I liked her personality and she liked my personality. We even had a lot of the same interests. I wanted to be an actor and she was a musical theater nerd. On paper, we should have been perfect for each other. It still didn't work out.

  That was the thing about relationships. You could have two people who were perfectly suited to one another and who loved being around each other. Put them in a relationship and within a week or two they'll be screaming at each other and tearing their hair out. Relationships ruined everything. That was what I had learned.

  Rose and I split up because she moved to Canada, but that wasn't the only reason. If she'd really been happy with me she wouldn't have moved. She didn't even ask me to go with her, for Christ's sake. One day she appeared on my doorstep and told me she was leaving for Vancouver in the morning.

  “Why didn't you tell me?” I'd asked.

  “Because I know you wouldn't have tried to stop me,” she'd said. She was right. I was a shitty boyfriend. The things that seemed to come naturally to other guys just weren't there with me. When Rose said she didn't want a birthday present, I took her at her word and got her nothing. She spent the whole day sobbing her bedroom and refused to come downstairs to see her family. When it came to meeting her folks I made a huge effort, wearing a tie and bringing dessert. It was all for nothing as they took one look at my tattoos and hated me instantly. The fact that I had chosen such an unstable career path didn't help my case. I sometimes wondered if they ever regretted not encouraging Rose to stay with me. Probably not. They must have seen how unhappy that I made her.

  Sex was easy. I knew what a clitoris was and that most women don't like guys to fuck them like jackhammers, so I was already ahead of most guys my age. I could please a woman in the bedroom no problem. It was outside the bedroom that was the problem.

  I had been an idiot to let Savannah get so attached to me. I'd been equally stupid to allow myself to get so attached to her. Even without me being famous it wouldn't have worked out. I would have ended up disappointing her and breaking her heart.

  I watched her drive off in that bastard Mark's car and wondered would she become his girlfriend. He seemed to have a real thing for her, so I wouldn't be surprised. Mark was the kind of guy with the 'nice guys finish last' attitude (though I don't know how he thought of himself as a nice guy.

  That was a mystery to me). He was wrong about that. Women like bad boys, sure, but not a much as they think they do. They like to look at us, to get fucked by us and to tell their girlfriends about how big our cocks are. They like the idea of taming us, but only in the abstract. Girls, at least smart girls like Savannah, didn't date guys like me. They knew we couldn't make them happy.

  I could never make a girl like that happy. I just had to accept it.

  Savannah

  I thought that Mark would be surprised to hear from me but it turned out that he wasn't at all. “I knew you'd get over that bastard,” he said, “Everyone does, eventually.”

  I just nodded and smiled. Mark's teeth were fixed so I could only see a glimmer of gold when he smiled and most of the swelling had gone down, but his face was still quite bruised. The streetlights shone on his face as he drove and I could see how severe the beating must have been. Dane had really laid into him.

  “I hope you don't mind me calling you. I just don't know anyone else in LA,” I said. Mark grinned at me.

  “No problem sweetie, I'm at your service. I love a good damsel in distress when I can find one,” he said, “But I've gotta say, I'm surprised you don't know more people here yet. You're a star in the making if I ever saw one.”

  “You're too sweet. You haven't even seen any of my designs,” I said. Mark clicked his fingers. “Designs! Right! I knew you did something cool and artistic like that. You're just that kind of chick, huh? That's awesome,” he glanced at me, “Seems a shame to waste such a pretty face tho
ugh. I wish you'd give acting a try.”

  “I can't act,” I said, “I was in a commercial when I was a kid and I had one line. I couldn't even remember that. They kept having to prompt me. I had to say 'I love chicken nuggets' and I just couldn't remember it. When I eventually got it right I didn't say it properly so they got some other kid to do it and I was just in the background. I cried for a week when the ad came out.”

  Mark laughed.

  “That's hilarious, but I bet you're not that bad. Besides, it doesn't matter much. Film is a very visual medium. More visual than theater. You can be ugly as fuck in theater and no one cares as long as your performance is top notch. Film is kind of the opposite,” he said, before bitterly adding, “After all, Dane's this huge movie star brand name and he can't act for shit.”

  I felt personally insulted on behalf of Dane. You could say a lot of things about him but the guy could act. Yes, so he did the cheesy action flicks and the occasional slasher but his dramatic work was really special. I didn't respond to what Mark had said but he picked up on it anyway.

  “Oh come on Savannah, you don't think he's talented do you?” he asked. I shrugged.

  “I guess you understand film better than I do,” I said. This made Mark smile again.

  “Yeah, I guess so. We're almost here.”

  Mark's house was no more impressive than Dane's. I'd kind of gotten over the Beverly Hills mansion thing at this point. Even so, I made sure to squeal and show the appropriate amount of enthusiasm. Something told me that Mark would appreciate that and I was right.

  “Bet you've never stayed at a place like this before,” he said, though it was practically a clone of Dane's place. The only difference I noticed was the massive swimming pool out front.