Mr. So Wrong

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Mr. So Wrong Page 12

by R. C. Stephens


  I shake my head. “Lean forward and put your hands on the bed,” I say, and she listens.

  Placing her palms on the bed, her fine ass up in the air, I stand behind her and caress her cheeks. I watch as her breathes quicken. I lean forward and curl over her body, using both my hands first to knead her breasts, then I slowly move down her body. We are both a mess from the sex we just had, but there’s nothing hotter than dirty sex or seeing my cum running down her legs.

  From this angle, I wrap my arm around her waist and cup her sex. She lets out the slightest of moans just from my touch. I smile, but she can’t see it since she’s facing the other direction. With one of my fingers, I use the wetness and move it up to her nub and down to her opening. I begin with soft slow strokes, just enjoying the feel of her in my hands. She starts to build, and I continue with the same strokes, only now I finger her too, pushing deep then pulling back and rubbing her nub in a slow, sweet circle. She begins to moan and her head falls as she takes in the pleasure I bring her. She moves back a bit and presses her ass into my cock, and it’s my turn to groan. She continues in that little bouncing rhythm as I finger her and rub her clit. She moves against my hand.

  “Al,” she rasps into the darkness of the room.

  I don’t answer. I know exactly what she needs. I bend my knees and use my hand to guide my cock inside her. When I enter her, she gasps, and I let out a guttural groan as her sex clenches around me. My body curls around her from behind and my arm wraps around her so I can roll her clit while I thrust inside her.

  “Fuck! You feel like heaven,” I groan as I pull out of her almost all the way before slamming back inside.

  She hisses. She’s building fast. So responsive.

  Her moans float through the room, filling the air with ecstasy as we move to a rhythm all our own. I don’t know what’s happening, but I can’t seem to get enough of Sam, and it isn’t only her pussy. I increase the speed. I rub and thrust into her, deeper and harder, and she curses, detonating like a bomb.

  I fall with her, coming hard and fast, as her sweet pussy milks the last drop of my cum. Her hands give out on her, and she falls forward onto the bed.

  “Let me grab you a towel,” I say, and before she can answer, I leave the room for the bathroom. I take a clean towel and turn the tap on until the water runs warm. I clean myself off then take a new towel back to her room.

  She’s lying naked on the bed, staring out the window. My chest warms. She must sense me watching her because she turns to me when I enter the room, and I kneel on the bed and spread her legs. She doesn’t speak as she watches me take care of her, running the towel slowly from her ankles, moving up her thighs, to her pussy and back down. I fall on the bed beside her and wrap her in my arms, discarding the towel onto the floor. My nose presses into her hair. I take in the floral scent.

  “What are you thinking?” I whisper. She looks blissful, but her eyes seem distant like she is in a faraway land.

  “Not much,” She forces a smile, and it irks me she’s closing down. “Come, let’s get dressed. I’m starving. You must be too.” She shifts off my chest and walks over to her closet without saying a word.

  I sigh. I just tried to get closer to her, and she pulled away. We get dressed quietly and head out to dinner. Only Sam isn’t present with me like she was when we were buying the Christmas tree. She’s retreated somewhere inside her head, and I want nothing more than to bring her back to me.

  Chapter Twenty

  Al

  Past

  Brie stayed in Europe for the summer with her mom. Her parents’ divorce was being drawn out in the courts. Her father hadn’t come to visit once since we started school last September. She didn’t say anything, but I knew it bothered her. I knew what it felt like to have a parent that didn’t give a shit.

  I went home for the summer, spending most of it at a sleepover camp in upstate New York. I’d been hit on a lot. Some of the girls were pretty too, but none of them held a match to Brie. We decided even though we were apart we would stay together.

  Now we were back at school and everything went back to normal—except for Brie. She started drinking way too much at the forest parties. I had a feeling she was doing drugs too, even though she didn’t admit it to me. As close as we were, I felt her drifting away.

  “Hey. How about I come back to your dorm after the party,” I suggested, wrapping my arms around her waist. It was October of our senior year. The weather was cooling so the forest parties would end soon. I hadn’t made it out to many because I was busy doing school work. Brie had returned to school before classes began in August and was hanging out with some of the students who remain here all year.

  “Sounds nice.” She laughed. She had a perma smile plastered on her face all night. She kissed me hard and ran away to an area where a bunch of people were dancing to techno music. I didn’t really develop a taste for that kind of music even though it was huge in Europe.

  I went off to hang out with a bunch of the guys. Brie and I had been intimate since I returned to school. Everything seemed great between us, so I didn’t understand why she was pulling away tonight.

  By two in the morning I was tired and thinking of classes tomorrow. I went over to Brie, who couldn’t seem to stop dancing. She acknowledged me but held out her finger while she chugged down a bottle of water.

  “You want to walk back with me?” I asked her.

  “Not really.” She laughed and bounced out of breath.

  My stare narrowed in on her dilated eyes, and I saw it … She must have taken something. Ecstasy had been popular and I suspected she was high on it. She wrapped her arms around my neck and hopped up on me, wrapping her legs around my waist. I was shocked. Brie was never into PDAs. “Let’s go by the trees and fuck,” she said into my mouth. We’d done that before at a party when we were both drunk and it was fun and carefree, but this felt different.

  She began to rub herself on me and my cock grew hard. “Dammit, Brie. Take it easy,” I hissed. We were around a lot of the guys and some of them started to shout out obscenities. I didn’t like it. I felt protective of her.

  “Why? I need you, Al. Please,” she pleaded, and I knew it must be the drugs making her feel hot and heavy. I hated that she took the drugs but knew better than to lecture her while high. I also didn’t want her getting off with anyone when she wasn’t in her right mind. I took her deeper into the forest and kissed her breathless.

  She was unbuttoning my jeans and pulling my cock out before I had a chance to gather my thoughts. She dropped to her knees and sucked me briefly, her mouth suction strong and harsh. I was coming apart at the seams. “Brie, wait.” I knew I had to get her off before I lost it. I took off the jacket I was wearing and motioned for her to lie on it so she wouldn’t scratch up her back. She lowered herself to the ground, and I took the condom out of my pocket.

  “Al, please. Hurry.” She began to rub herself and it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. She was clearly uninhibited tonight because the Brie I knew was shy even when we were intimate.

  “Jesus,” I hissed. I was going to lose my shit watching her. She began to moan from touching herself. I got on the ground, taking a deep breath, and thrust inside her. “You are so wet.” I moved in and out of her. She placed her hands on my ass and urged me to go faster. She came apart screaming my name. When we were done, she wanted me to go again, but I needed some recuperation time. She stood up and started to dance while I lay there watching her.

  I didn’t take me long to get hard again, and when I did, I had sex with Brie. She orgasmed like a bomb being set off. I ended up staying at the party till the break of dawn just to watch out for her. We fucked three times that night. In the morning I sneaked into her dorm and missed my classes as I watched her sleep and come down from her high.

  Something was bothering her and she wasn’t sharing it with me. It hurt because we always shared stuff about our families and shit that bothered us. Why was it that she couldn’t share with me
now?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sam

  We’re seated at our table, and the waiter comes up to take our order.

  “I’ll have the sixteen ounce steak with a baked potato and steamed vegetables.” Al smiles, but I can tell he’s on edge.

  The waiter turns his attention to me. “What can I get you, miss?” He grins, holding his order pad in his hand.

  “I’ll have the same as him.” I tilt my chin to Al.

  “And would you like some wine with your meal?” the waiter asks. This is one of the spiffier places in town. I’ve never been here, but I heard the food is good.

  “Yes, can I see your wine menu?” Al asks, and he speaks so proper and fancy. It pisses me off for some reason. The waiter leans over the table and passes him the wine menu. Al gazes over it. “Which do you prefer? Red or white? I was thinking red would pair well with the steak,” he says, and I can’t help but imitate him in my head. Yes, I’m making fun of him because I need to separate him from the feelings building in my chest. It’s better to laugh at him than fall for him. My reasoning doesn’t even make sense to me.

  “I’m good either way,” I answer because to me wine is wine.

  “Great, we’ll take a bottle of your Napa Valley Cabernet sauvignon,” Al says and places the menu on the table.

  “Great choice, sir. Coming right up.” The waiter grins and moves over to another table.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks me.

  “Nothing.” I shrug and look around the restaurant. It’s a nice place. The lighting is dim, white table clothes adorn the tables, and each table has a little candle sitting in a red glass holder. It gives the place a romantic feel. If I knew the place would be like this, I would have chosen the Chili’s down the street.

  “You’ve been quiet ever since we left the house,” Al continues, and I don’t know what he expects. We had sex twice. That doesn’t mean we are a couple or we need to share our thoughts.

  “I don’t have much to say.” This feels like a date, and I don’t like it. I prefer hanging out in informal settings.

  “Your mood has changed since this afternoon. Why?” He tilts his head to the side and waits. My hands remain on my lap out of fear that if I place my hand on the table, he will take hold of it and that would be an intimate gesture.

  “You don’t know what I have to say because you don’t know me,” I snap. Shit. I don’t mean to snap. He’s a nice guy. I let out a sigh. “Look, you’re a nice guy …” I begin, and he scoffs at me.

  “Don’t feed me that line. Please.” He looks remorseful, and I can’t help but laugh.

  “I’m guessing you’ve used it yourself one too many times.” I cock a brow and lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Don’t do that.” He waves his hand up and down in front of my face.

  My brows dip together. “Do what?” I can’t help my defensive tone.

  “This … what you’re doing … pushing me away. I see all the signs. We were friends.” He rolls his eyes. “I know we’ve only known each other about a week, but I like you as a person, respect you, and am grateful for you. You thought the same thing about me. I don’t care what you say right now, or what you have to make up in that head of yours just so you can push me away and lock your feelings down, because it will all be a lie. And believe me, I know all about living a lie,” he says, and my words fail me.

  “I told you I don’t do relationships. We had sex and now we’re sitting for a meal.” I pause because the waiter brings the wine bottle and along with two glasses. He sets the glasses in front us and goes on to pour us each a glass.

  “Thank you.” Al smiles and the waiter leaves.

  “You are acting as if this is a date and not two friends sharing a meal.” I continue the rant I started before the waiter interrupted.

  The waiter sets our meals in front of us. I’m starving and it smells delicious so I dig right in. Al watches me for a brief moment and gets to work on cutting his steak.

  After he places the first bite in his mouth, he groans and closes his eyes. “This is a good steak.” He points to the plate in front of him. Then he pauses. “Two friends don’t fuck like animals in heat, Sam. The chemistry between us and the connection I feel toward you isn’t one sided. I saw it today when we went Christmas tree shopping. You were happy and free. That desolate look you get in your eyes was gone. Now it’s back,” he says and cuts into his steak, pulling his attention away from me … and fuck him! He thinks he knows me, that he can read me, but he can’t.

  “What are you talking about anyway? You know all about living a lie …” I want to call him out on the statement he made only moments ago.

  He’s chewing a large piece of steak, his sexy jawbone working the meat. I wish he wasn’t so darn attractive. And he’s right. There’s been a strange connection between us. I felt it the first morning he woke up sick in my bed. Maybe that’s why I let him stay with us. I don’t know.

  “That’s not how this works.” He picks up his fork and waves it at me. “I don’t mind sharing, but you need to open up too. Tell me what the hell is going on in that head of yours because I just had the best sex of my life. I could tell you enjoyed yourself too. Now you’re acting like I don’t exist. Why?”

  “You’re a bastard,” I snap at him, and he stops chewing. He stops everything. Hell, it even looks like he stopped breathing. It freaks me the hell out. He places his fork and knife down and leans back in his chair, but his movements are stilted like he’s the Tin Man.

  He sits and stares at me for a few long beats before he leans forward on the table and looks me in the eye and says, “You’re right. I am a bastard.”

  My face twists with confusion.

  “Let me explain,” he says before I can open my mouth again. I sit quietly because I’ve clearly ticked him off. I nod, showing him he has my attention. “When I was twenty-five years old, I walked into my father’s office and told him I was ready to learn the family business. I was fresh out of college. I am the oldest of my siblings. It made sense for me to get involved. Only my father was having an off day.” His brows raise as if I’m supposed to know what an off day means. Hell, every day is an off day for Papa. “Some big deal he’d been working on fell through. He was drunk and going on some rant. Then he says to me … ‘You’re a lawyer. What do you want to accomplish here at Walsh Industries?’ He started to laugh. It was a deep and hearty chuckle. It’s been over ten years and it still echoes in my ears at night. I thought it was the alcohol making him an asshole, so I decided to sit quiet. Told him I could head his legal team. That made him laugh some more.” He leans forward on the table and folds his hands in front of him, looking me straight in the eye. A shiver crawls up my spine. “He said, ‘Your brother walks in here and tells me to teach him to run this place. He wants my seat at the table and you want to run the legal team?’ He started to laugh some more and I was lost. I assumed it was the alcohol but then he said, ‘No matter how much I tried to make you a Walsh, you were never a Walsh. You just don’t have my blood in your veins.’ My confusion morphed into hurt as you can imagine.” He cuts me a steely glare.

  “I knew my father was an asshole, but his words were plain cruel. I remember saying to him, “Father, you’re drunk. Maybe we should get you home.” I stood up and came around his desk and took him by the arm, figuring I should get him out of there before he makes a fool of himself in front of someone else, but when I took him by the arm, he pulled it away. He gave me an incredulous look and said, ‘I’m not that drunk, boy. I know what I’m talking about. You’re a bastard. I married your mother a few days after your second birthday. You aren’t my son.’” Al pauses and the hurt he must have felt that day cracks through the surface, and is etched on every part of his perfect face from his stormy eyes to the frown on his lips. “I didn’t know what caused him to say such cruel things to me. I left his office and called my mother right away. I thought maybe he was high on somethi
ng or taking pills, only my mother corroborated his story over the phone. She didn’t even tell me to come to the house so she could explain. I was driving when I found out I wasn’t Albert Walsh the Third. I wasn’t a Walsh at all.” He accentuates and blows out a harsh breath. I don’t know who the Walshes are, but it sounds like they are some rich, well-known family. “I was raised to believe I was a Walsh. I grew up with a sense of pride and power because I held the Walsh name and they took that from me. It turns out it was a fluke my mother named me Albert because she had seen my stepfather in the news and developed a crush on him. She thought he was this important strong and handsome man. My mom was born into money. She got pregnant accidentally and never told my birth father I existed. She set her sights on Albert Walsh the Second, and he apparently swept her off her feet.”

  “Whoa.” I lean back in my chair. And I thought my life was dramatic.

  “Yeah.” He nods. “Turns out my half-brother Derek found out I wasn’t my father’s son and told him it wouldn’t be right for me to get involved in the business with the intent that I would one day run the entire empire. Derek, who was a true Walsh, felt entitled. I walked away. I speak to my mother a few times a year at best. The only family member I stay in touch with is my little sister, Izzy. She’s a Walsh, but she doesn’t like her parents very much, and she has no interest in the family business. She wants to be a fashion designer, and she refuses to use the family money to help her succeed,” he finishes.

  Fuck that sounds rough. I sit back and don’t know what to say.

  “So you see, you’re right, I am a bastard, but I’m a bastard that actually cares about you.” He exhales and looks like his body deflates.

  “Shit,” I hiss and drop my head. “I’m sorry, Al. I didn’t mean to call you a bastard. I mean, I shouldn’t have. You were pushing, and I don’t like it. I don’t want you to push. I just want to sit here quietly and enjoy the rest of our dinner,” I say.

 

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