Bad Boy Roomie (The Bad Boy Roomie Romance Series Box Set)

by Claire Adams

  “I promise that I’ll always use my powers for good,” he swore as he raised his right hand and looked straight into my eyes.

  “Alright, then…” I said, not quite convinced, but appreciative of the gesture. “So, what are you going to do next?”

  “I have no idea,” he laughed. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “Will you be leaving?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Do you want me to stay?” he replied. I looked at him and wondered if I did. Did I want him to stay with me? What would that mean? What would he do? We couldn’t live here in my dorm room, but was I ready to move in with him? The questions came tumbling one after another. “Ava, I’m not asking if you want to marry me or even move in with me, I’m simply asking if you’d like it if I stayed.”

  “I think I would,” I whispered softly as I looked down at my plate. “I would like that very much.”

  “Then it’s settled, I’m staying,” he announced. I smiled and took another bite of my pizza, and chewed slowly as I looked over at the handsome man sitting next to me. The one who had saved my life and was now willing to stay in a small college town to be near me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

  “For what?” he asked as he tipped his head and gave me a confused look.

  “For the email I sent and not telling you what I was doing, and…” I trailed off, embarrassed and unsure of how to say what I wanted to say. “And for saying all of those things about you when I was trying to distract Dominic while I was hoping that you’d wake up. I know you heard me, and…I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, Ava,” Brian smiled as he put down his plate and turned toward me. He raised his hand and stroked my cheek gently as he spoke, “I didn’t believe a word of what you were saying. I knew you were trying to do whatever you could to save us all. Besides, I’ve heard far worse things said about myself and in situations that were far less stressful! No apologies necessary.”

  “Oh good, I felt awful saying those things,” I explained. “But I had no idea what else to do to give you time to wake up and to keep Dominic from killing us all.”

  “I heard what he said to you,” Brian said with a serious look on his face. “Are you okay?”

  “Who me? I’m fine!” I laughed uneasily. “I’m just fine…”

  “Ava, it’s okay not to be fine,” he said gently as he opened his arms and waited for me to find my way into them. I looked up at him as tears began to well up, and then sunk into his embrace.

  “I was so scared,” I whispered into his chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared in my whole life.”

  “I know, me either,” he confided. “I was terrified of what he was going to do to you and the others, and that I wouldn’t be able to stop him.”

  I nodded and buried my face in his chest as he gently rubbed my back, and as he did, the gravity of the day sunk in, and I began to cry.

  “Shhh, shhh,” Brian soothed as he stroked my hair and held me close. “It’s all going to be okay. I’m not going to leave you.”

  “But what happens when my father lets you go?” I sobbed. “You won’t be able to stay here with me!”

  At that moment, Brian’s phone rang, and he let go with one arm to answer the call. He listened for a while and then said, “Yes, sir. No, sir. No, sir. Yes, sir. I will, sir. Thank you, sir,” and hung up.

  “Well, that just answered your question,” he smiled. “That was your father, and he’s decided that I should stay on as your personal bodyguard until the end of school year. The police commissioner called him and told him what happened, and he decided it was better to be safe than sorry. He’s also decided to move you out of the dorm into an apartment where I can keep a better eye on you. The movers will be here tomorrow to pack you up and move your things. I’m to oversee the move.”

  I stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. “You and my father have conspired against me!”

  “No, I swear I had no idea what he was going to do!” Brian said as he held up his hands in a defensive gesture.

  I considered him for a moment. On one hand, I resented the idea that my father was, again, going to dictate where I lived and what I did, but on the other hand, I was going to get to have Brian in my life on a permanent basis. I wasn’t sure if I should be mad at the two of them or grateful for my good fortune. As I looked at Brian, thought about all we’d been through in such a short time and how safe I felt with him, I opted for grateful.

  “Well, if the movers are coming tomorrow, then this is our last night here,” I smiled as I gazed into his beautiful blue eyes.

  “Indeed it is,” he replied as he smiled back at me. “What do you say we do something to commemorate it?”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Mr. Flynn,” I murmured as he leaned in.

  He softly brushed his lips across mine as he reached out to pull me to him. He stopped and we both laughed when we realized that I was still holding a piece of half-eaten pizza. I set it down and melted into his arms as we kissed.

  Brian wrapped his arms tightly around me and pulled me against his chest as I cupped his face with my hands and felt the prickly stubble that had sprung up on his cheeks. His lips tasted warm and salty, and I giggled a little when he pulled back and whispered, “Mmmm, you taste like pizza!”

  For a long time we sat on the couch kissing as our hands roamed over each other’s clothed bodies, but as our desire grew stronger, this wasn’t enough. Abruptly, Brian pulled away and stood up, and I couldn’t hide my disappointment when I realized he was stopping the action, so I looked away. Seconds later, I let out a small scream as Brian bent over and scooped me up in his arms.

  “You didn’t think I was going to leave you here, did you?” he smiled as I wrapped my arms around his neck and laid my head on his shoulder.

  “I wasn’t sure,” I whispered. “And I didn’t want to be disappointed.”

  “Ava, look at me,” he said seriously. I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. “I’m going to do everything in my power to never, ever disappoint you. Not ever.”

  In response, I nodded and planted a soft kiss on his lips. He lowered me onto the bed and then stood back as he slowly removed his T-shirt and undid his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. I sat up and started tugging on my shirt, but he pushed my hands away and said, “No, let me do it.” His hands were gentle as he pushed my shirt up my torso and then pulled it over my head, and I saw him wince as his eyes scanned the bruises that Dominic had left.

  “Do they hurt?” he asked as he ran his fingers over the marks that mottled my skin.

  “Not yet. That’ll come tomorrow,” I replied, knowing that the worst would be the next morning, when I would feel the full impact of the blows.

  He leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips across the worst of the bruises as he gently pulled my skirt down and dropped it on the floor. He quickly added my panties to the growing pile of discarded clothing as he lay down next to me.

  His hands roamed my naked body as we slowly kissed, and I could feel his hardness pressed against my thigh. My body responded to his touch as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and before long, I felt him spreading my thighs and slipping his fingers into my wetness. I gasped as he slowly slid them up and down, lightly stroking my clit, and then dragging them down to tease me a little before sliding back up again.

  In retaliation, I reached out and ran my hand across the tip of his cock, coating it in the pre-cum that covered it. Then I wrapped my hand around his girth and began stroking it slowly. Now it was his turn to gasp. I smiled as I whispered, “Two can play that game, Mr. SEAL.”

  “Can they, now?” Brian laughed as he pushed two fingers up into my tight, wet pussy and heard me inhale sharply. We lay there watching each other as our hands got lost in the playground of our bodies.

  Suddenly, Brian withdrew his fingers, wrapped his arms around me, and rolled over on his back, pulling me on top of him so that I was forc
ed to let go of my hold on his cock. He quickly positioned me so that the tip of it was pressing up against my wet opening, and then kissed me deeply as he slowly slid inside me. I felt like I was melting as his cock filled my pussy, and I moaned softly into his lips as he pushed the entire length inside. He stopped and waited, letting me feel the fullness before he began slowly pulling back out and leaving just the tip of his swollen member inside me.

  I kissed him harder as I tried to make him push back up, but he held his ground and waited.

  “Oh Brian, please?” I begged. “Please! Please!”

  “Please what,” he said through gritted teeth as he kept me from slamming myself down onto him.

  “Please! I need it!” I cried as I wriggled in his grasp.

  “What do you need, Ava? Tell me,” he urged.

  “I need it! I need your cock! Please!” I begged more desperately. “God, take me! Now!”

  Hearing those words spurred him to action, and Brian slammed his hips up against mine as he buried his cock inside me. I cried out as I felt him enter me fast and hard, and then began pushing against him as we tried to find a rhythm that would match the desire we felt. He thrust up again and again and I met him more than halfway as I tried to drive him deeper and deeper inside of me. I wrapped my arms around him, and as I slammed down, I heard him groan. We’d found our rhythm, and frantically rode it until both of us were on the edge of an intense orgasm.

  Brian had somehow worked his hand between our two bodies, and was firmly stroking my clit in a way that made my pussy pulse around his cock. I’d never felt anything like it, and I briefly wondered if I would pass out when I came. The thought left my mind as quickly as it had arrived, and suddenly, I was hurtling over the edge of a cliff as I moaned his name. The orgasm shook my body, and I felt him join me as we both flew into the abyss together.

  Many minutes later I heard Brian whisper something in my ear, but my pulse was still pounding in my brain and I couldn’t hear him. I lifted my head and lightly kissed his lips before I gave him a questioning look.

  “I’m so sorry, Ava,” he whispered as he bent forward and pressed his forehead to my chest. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” I reassured him. “This isn’t your fault.”

  “It is my fault,” he said. “I was supposed to protect you and keep you safe and I failed.”

  “No, you didn’t,” I objected. “There was no way for you to have known what Dominic was doing!”

  “I tried to keep tabs on him at all times,” Brian admitted. “All those texts were from a couple of the frat brothers I’d had following him and Cheese. I tried to keep him under surveillance, but we lost him.”

  “So that explains the obsessive texting all the time!” I laughed. “I thought it was a new girlfriend.”

  “A new girlfriend?” he said with a smile as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tightly against him. “Why would I want a new girlfriend when I’ve got all I ever wanted right here in my arms?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

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  PRIEST

  By Claire Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 Claire Adams

  Chapter One

  jace

  I stood in front of the floor-length mirror in my room at the church where I’d served as parish priest for the past two years. I stared at myself in my black cassock and thought about the days ahead.

  It wasn’t moving to a new church that troubled me — it was moving forward with a crucial piece of my life no longer intact. I’ve been devout in my faith since I was a child. But as I gazed at my reflection…I was having doubts.

  I looked at the man in the mirror and instead of seeing Father Jace, I saw the reflection of a frightened little boy. That little boy had been brought to where he was through the love and devotion of a woman — and now she was gone and I was questioning everything about my life.

  My grandmother used to say, “Be humble and respectful to everyone, whether you are sure they deserve it or not.” She taught me not to judge people too harshly and that if you worked hard and did good things, you would always prosper.

  When Grandma talked about prospering, she wasn’t talking about money. She taught my brothers and me that prosperity was about your family and your friends. The people that you kept within your inner circle said more about you than anything, according to her, and I had come to believe that myself.

  She also always said if you looked hard enough, no matter how far you stray, it was always possible to find a path back into God’s good graces. That one I used to believe without a doubt, but those doubts had started to work their way in.

  I had strayed from my faith the moment they told me she was dead. I had spent most of my nights since railing against God, instead of praying to Him. My grandmother didn’t need my prayers for her soul. She was the purest soul that ever existed. The irony is if she were still here, she would be the first to tell me to hit my knees and pray hard for forgiveness.

  I was holding out hope I’d be ready to do that soon, but for the time being, I’d have to fake it. That day, repentance was not on the agenda. I knew that when I had to stand there and helplessly watch them lower her into the ground, instead of rejoicing for her soul, I would be agonizing over the pain in mine.

  I was angry, but I was not supposed to be. I was a priest, but damn it, I was also human. My grandmother was dead. She was the light that always beckoned me home, no matter how lost I’ve been. I was angry and sad and confused, and no amount of praying would give me the answers to my questions. How was I supposed to find my way any longer?

  It was just after 12 o'clock. The old church bells rang out, and from my second story room, I could hear the flock of pigeons the bells sent into disarray as they cooed and flapped violently away from the bell tower of the old church.

  I heard the echo of each slow chime as I made my way through the cavernous inner halls on my way to the vestry. The sounds reverberated off the stones that held the sacred building together and bounced off the stained-glass windows and polished, oak pews.

  With a heavy heart and a deep ache in my soul, I draped the white stole about my neck in preparation for the mass I was about to say, as was tradition. I begged God to give me on the last day the garment of immortality that was forfeited by our sinful first parents.

  I was on autopilot. I was a priest; it was what I did, what I knew to do.

  The mourners filled the church, and I believed I handled the mass with as much dignity as humanly possible. I had a hard time suppressing my own grief as I watched the broken faces of my brothers in the front pew. I managed to keep it together, and even remain pious in my thoughts, until we reached the cemetery.

  When I stepped out of the black car into the brilliant sunlight and looked around at the vibrant colors of spring that surrounded me, my anger returned with a vengeance. My grandmother was dead and the sun was offensively bright and cheerful.

  It was as if God and the elements were conspiring to show me that the world would go on just fine without her. It shouldn't, and that’s why I was so angry. As far as I was concerned, everything should be as dark and gray as my emotions were. The weather should have been damp and cold, and the birds should not have been singing in the trees overhead.

  I walked through the cemetery like a silhouette of myself. I wished I was as insubstantial as the shadows. Shadows don’t have to feel the tangle of emotions that were twisting around in my gut. I stood near the freshly dug hole and waited for th
e coffin to arrive.

  I was no longer apologetic to my Father in Heaven. I was pissed.

  ******

  “Touching service, Father,” a young congregate said to me as she shook my hand after the funeral. I forced a smile and nodded at her.

  “My condolences for your loss, Father. Your grandmother was a great lady,” the next one told me as he shook my hand.

  “We’ll all miss her, Father…”

  It went on and on. My head felt like it might literally explode and shoot off my shoulders before the last member of the congregation shook my hand and headed for their car. Finally, I was alone with my grandmother and my brothers.

  “How are you doing, Jace?” My brother Max was at my side. He was the oldest and the one that would be counted on to hold us together with Grandma gone.

  “I’ve been better,” I said, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. “How about you?” My other brother, Ryan, walked up as we talked.

  “I’m hanging in there. I’m not sure what to do without her. She will be sorely missed.” I had no doubts Max would miss her, but he’d been independent since we were taken from the house of horrors that was our life and placed with Grandmother when he was 10. I was six at the time, and Ryan was only six months.

  Ryan’s eyes and face were swollen and red. He still lived with Grandmother, and I had no doubts her death would leave the biggest void in his life. She coddled him a little too much, and at 25, he was more dependent on her than a man really had a right to be.

  “Hey,” he said with a chin tilt. Even at a funeral he was still clinging to the cool-guy, motorcycle stud stereotype. I opened my arms and it all fell away. He folded into them and sought the strength of his big brother and priest. I could at least be one of those for him.

  As soon as I closed my arms around him, his shoulders began to shake and he unloaded the grief that he’d been trying so hard to hold back. “I know that I’m not supposed to think like this,” he said between sobs. “But I’m so angry, Jace. We all still needed her. Why does God let things like this happen? She was nothing but good. Why does he take the good ones so soon?”