Diary of a Bad Boy

by Quinn, Meghan

  Still though, the poor bastard. I do feel a little bad for him. He loves Julia so damn much, and I know all he wants to do is marry the girl. It’s why after he left I sent him some encouraging texts. Why didn’t I say those things in front of Sutton? Because I was pissed and irritated.

  I’m still pissed and irritated but now for an entirely different reason.

  Sutton left.

  She left as if it was no problem at all, and the only reason I’m not panicking and having a complete mental breakdown over it is because of the smallest of smirks I saw playing on her lips when the elevator doors closed. She’s playing cat and mouse, her idea of foreplay.

  My idea of torture.

  But if it’s angry sex she wants, she’s about to get it.

  Wish me luck, Ralph. This is going to be a night I remember for a long time.

  Roark

  * * *

  ROARK

  Fuming and turned on, I wait for Sutton to open the door to her apartment. The balls on this fucking woman—to walk out of my apartment, taking my friend’s side.

  It set me into a fit of rage but also made me smile. Sutton Grace, my Sutton Grace, not only got along with Bram but showed compassion and kindness in his time of need. I never doubted he’d like her—because she’s incredible—but Bram is one of the only guys I’ve truly leaned on, and she swooped in and took him under her wing, helping him with his problem. It made me want her even more, and then she ran away.

  I’m so not fucking happy.

  The door to her apartment unlocks, and I press my hand against the doorway, trying to tamp down my anger. The door peeks open and I don’t see anything, just the inside of her apartment. When I go to say something, she opens the door wider, but stays behind the wood, out of view.

  I charge in and she shuts the door quickly.

  That’s when I see her.

  Standing across from me, in nothing but a black thong and that cut-off white shirt . . . wet, so every inch of the fabric is plastered to her fantastic tits.

  Speechless, I stare as she struts toward me and places her hand on my chest. Immediately I palm her ass and bring her in close, her shirt making mine wet as well.

  Her hands move up my neck to my hair when she says, “What took you so long to get here? I’ve been waiting.”

  I squeeze her ass, loving how much of her there is to grab. “Why are you playing games, Sutton?”

  “It’s okay for you to play games, but not me?”

  “When did I play games?” I ask, lowering my mouth to her neck where I start nipping along the column.

  “When we first met, with my cell phone.”

  “That doesn’t count. We weren’t together then.”

  “You still tortured me.” She moves her hands down my back to my jeans where she slips her hands under my shirt and starts pulling it up and over my head. I assist her and toss the fabric on the ground, bringing my lips back to her neck.

  “Still different. Now that we’re dating, we don’t fuck around with each other.”

  “Are you lecturing me?” she asks, her nipples poking my chest with her heavy breaths.

  Loving her scent, I run my nose along her ear, down to her collarbone as my hands travel up her back. She smells so damn good, and her soft skin is unlike anything I’ve felt. It’s as if it’s never been touched before. I can see myself getting lost in her body very easily.

  “Yeah, I am.” I lift up and look her in the eyes. “Don’t fuck with my head, Sutton. It’s already messed up as it is.”

  Her eyes soften as she reaches up and presses her fingers along my scruff. “I wanted to get you over here and surprise you.” She pushes me backward until I sit on her bed. I quickly kick off my shoes before she sits on my lap. I circle her with my arms, my hands landing on her backside where I slip them under her thong.

  She rests her arms on my shoulders, tilts her head to the side so her long blonde hair falls with her, and she starts to move her hips. I groan and waste no time making her lips mine. Soft and willing, her lips match my needy kisses, our tongues clashing in the middle. Her hands work their way into my hair, and my hands start to slide her thong down her legs. She lifts up, and I help guide the fabric off her body with help from each leg. I toss it with my shirt and quickly reach between her legs where I press a finger into her wetness.

  She moans into my mouth as my finger finds her clit, and I start rubbing it as her hips very slowly work back and forth over my finger.

  It’s so fucking hot that my cock jumps against the zipper of my jeans.

  I straighten out my finger and let her ride it, her kisses intensifying, her grip growing stronger. So wet, she glides up and down as I add another finger and slip inside her.

  “Yes,” she groans, now moving up and down. Her head falls back and I take advantage of her exposed neck and see-through shirt. From her neck, to her chest, to her nipples. I drag one into my mouth and squeeze her other breast with my hand that slipped under her shirt. She continues to ride my fingers, her tight channel closing in around me, and all I can envision is my dick getting the same treatment.

  Desperate to find out what it feels like to be inside her, I flip her onto the bed so her back hits the mattress, and pull a pack of condoms from my back pocket. I toss them on the bed and reach for her shirt, dragging it over her head, exposing her completely. Not even a little shy, she lies there, naked, and fuckin’ gorgeous as she stares up at me. She spreads her legs, and I watch in slow motion as her hand travels down her stomach to her nub, and she starts to massage it with two fingers.

  Her hips rotate and her nipples pucker as she bites her bottom lip.

  Holy Fuck.

  She nods at my pants and says, “Lose them, Roark.”

  Eyes on hers, I reach down and undo my pants, dragging them down my hips along with my briefs. I kick them to the side along with my socks and stand tall as my cock juts out at her. Not even trying to be coy, her gaze immediately falls to my dick, and her mouth drops open. Best reaction ever.

  She glances at me and her cheeks blush—the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. There she is, the girl I first met, purity brimming from her eyes. I grip my cock and tug on it, staring at her while she continues to rub herself out, her legs falling open even more.

  “You’re so fookin’ beautiful, Sutton.” I snag a condom from the box on the bed, tear it open, and roll it over my more-than-ready erection right before leaning forward and hovering above her. “Are you sure you want this, that you want me?”

  “More than anything, Roark.”

  I stroke her cheek, and the moment slows, becoming more intimate. “I’ve never felt like this about another person. It’s different, and it’s fucking terrifying.”

  “If it helps, I’m feeling the same thing.” Her thumbs pass over my lip. “I’ve developed feelings for you, and I’m afraid they run deeper than I expected.” Her eyes turn glassy with moisture. “I like you a lot, Roark.”

  Fuck.

  I press a kiss against each of her eyes and then her nose, trying to soothe the worry etching her brow. I nudge my nose over hers and smile. “I like you a lot too.” I lower my hips, my cock pressing against her entrance. “I don’t know where you came from, but I don’t want to let you go.” And that’s the God’s honest truth. I can’t imagine my life without this woman.

  She reaches down and wraps her small hand around my length right before she guides me inside. Her mouth falls open, she inhales, and then moves her hips until I’m fully inserted.

  Fucking hell, she feels so good.

  My muscles clench.

  So damn good.

  “I’m not fucking around, Sutton, you’re mine now. Do you understand that?”

  She nods and brings my mouth to hers. Before kissing me, she says, “The possession is mutual. You’re mine.”

  I pause, my hips stilling as I connect my eyes with hers. “I . . . fuck,” I breathe out, my heart swelling in my dark, empty chest. “You don’t know what that d
oes to me, hearing you say that.”

  “It’s true.” She shifts her hips, and I grind my teeth together.

  “Lass, I need to move.”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  This girl, she’s killing me. I drop my lips onto hers and pepper her with open-mouthed kisses as I slowly start to ease my hips in and out of her. I slip one of my hands into her hair and grip her breast with the other, lightly kneading her nipple. Her chest rises, her moans fill me up, and her sweet pussy lights up every nerve in my body.

  So good.

  So tight.

  So perfect.

  “God,” I groan, releasing her mouth for a second, needing to catch my breath.

  I push into her harder, picking up my pace.

  “Yes,” she chants, her neck straining, her fingers digging into my back. “Oh Roark, oh my God, Roark.”

  The way she says my name, the breathless whisper she uses, it pulses through my veins like oxygen, sending my body into a frenzy. I connect our foreheads, my hands bracing on either side of her head, my chest straining above her. Fuck, my orgasm starts to build at the tips of my toes and climbs up my legs, inch by glorious inch.

  “Fuck,” I breathe out heavily as my balls start to tighten.

  Sutton’s grip tightens, her pussy clenches around me, and her head tilts back as she cries out in ecstasy. “Roark, yes. Oh my God.”

  I pump harder, faster, using her orgasm to set off mine as she pulses around my cock. Like a fire hitting dry grass, the heat in my body ignites in a flash, my stomach drops, and pleasure erupts deep inside me as I still and come inside Sutton.

  “Christ,” I mutter, slowly working my hips in and out until we both open our eyes and stare into each other’s souls. And then I sense something I’ve never felt before.

  An understanding passing between us.

  This is real.

  This is more than I expected. Than she expected.

  This could easily be forever.

  * * *

  In Sutton’s tiny apartment, I rest my head on her fluffy pillow. She’s curled into my side, and I stroke her hair, feeling consumed with a vast array of emotions.

  The first being I want to protect her. I never want anything bad to happen to her, and given she lives here in Brooklyn, it scares me knowing I can’t be here all the time. I make a promise to myself to hire a driving service for her. On days I can’t be with her, I want to know she’s safe. Might be ridiculous, but given the way we met, I think it’s worth it.

  Second, I want to talk to her. Hell, I want to talk to her about everything, and I’m not a talker, despite my Irish heritage. I’d rather drink a pint of Guinness than sit down and have a chitchat. But I have this need building inside me as we lie here, her soft sleeping sounds filling the night, to wake her up and talk about my childhood, tell her my favorite Irish dish—even if it’s lame—tell her all about the small town I grew up in. I want her to know every little piece about me, and that’s never happened before.

  Then there’s the passion coursing through me. If I hadn’t worn her out twice already, I’d be waking her up right now to have her again. Relationships and emotions have never been my thing, ever, but with Sutton, I want it all. I want emotions involved when we’re having sex. I want her to tell me she likes me . . . a lot, when I’m deep inside of her. I want her to shiver when my lips caress her, telling her how she makes me feel. Sex is different with Sutton in the best possible way, and I want more of it . . . all of it.

  And that godforsaken scent of lavender. It’s around her all the time, and it’s driving me crazy. Now when I get a whiff of the smell, even when she’s not around, I get hard. It’s getting out of hand, and yet, lying here with her, I take in deep breaths, trying to get as much of her scent inside me as possible.

  Who am I right now?

  I’m not that guy.

  But even though I’m not, there is no way I’m turning back, not when I somehow got lucky and was able to secure Sutton as my girl.

  She’s different, she’s challenging, she’s sweet, and she’s also spicy when she wants to be. She makes me want to be better, she proves to me that I can be better, and she believes in me.

  She fucking believes in me. And I had no fucking idea how much I’ve needed that.

  I press a soft kiss to the top of her head and grip her tighter. Now that I’m committed, giving this relationship thing a go, there is no way I’m fucking it up, and if I do, I’ll be ready to grovel.

  * * *

  “Put some clothes on,” Sutton says, standing by her bathroom, one hand on her hip while the other brushes her wet hair.

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re going out. It’s past noon, and we haven’t eaten anything.”

  I smile wickedly at her. “I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty full from eating your pussy twice already today.”

  Her face falls as her cheeks blush a furious shade of red. “Can you not say it like that? You make it so vulgar.”

  “I make it sound so hot.” I pat the side of the bed and rub the comforter. “Now get back over here, I’m hungry again.”

  She rolls her eyes and disappears into the bathroom. “We need actual food or I’m going to start getting hangry.”

  “I told you we can order in.”

  “We need fresh air,” she counters, popping out of the bathroom in that terrycloth robe I’ve been dying to pull apart.

  “My form of fresh air isn’t allowed anymore, so I’m good here.”

  “Roark,” she breathes out heavily. “Please, let’s go out to lunch—it’s on me—and then we can come back here and you can do whatever you want to me.”

  I scoff. “You’re not buying anything, not when I’m around.”

  “Don’t be that guy.”

  “What guy?” I ask, brow furrowed, still rubbing the bed, trying to entice her.

  “The alpha guy who demands he pays for everything. I make a paycheck, and I can afford things too.”

  “How much do you make?”

  Hand on hip, she asks, “Why does it matter?”

  “Because, I probably make your salary in a day, that’s why.” It’s so not true. Some days I probably make her annual salary in an hour, but I’m not telling her that. I pat the bed again. “Now come sit down; I’ll call for food.”

  “That was a very pompous thing to say.” The playful look in her eyes fades, and I inwardly groan, knowing my chances of getting her back into bed just plummeted.

  I fling the covers back and reach for my jeans. “It’s the truth. If anything, I’m always going to tell you the truth.”

  “Just because it’s the truth doesn’t mean it isn’t rude.”

  I punch my legs through my jeans then stand, tucking my semi-hard dick past the zipper. Her eyes watch me the entire time, gazing at my cock, her chest rising and falling a little faster. Okay, maybe my chances didn’t entirely evaporate.

  “Never said it wasn’t rude, just said it was the truth.” I walk toward the bathroom and when I pass her, I tug on her robe, loosening the straps so the sides fall open, then continue to the bathroom where I stare in the mirror and adjust my hair.

  I glance to the side and check out her partially exposed stomach and cleavage.

  “You’re being an ass,” she points out, not fixing the robe.

  I adjust my hair a few seconds more before stepping out of the bathroom, then I tip her chin up and whisper, “I’m sorry for being an arse . . . but it’s true.”

  She swats my chest causing me to laugh. “You are infuriating.”

  “Yeah, I know, lass. Now are ya going to get dressed or are ya going like that? I need to know so I understand how I’m going to approach every guy on the street.”

  Lips pursed, eyes narrowed, she stares me down and drops her robe to the ground, exposing her beautiful body.

  I shake my head at her. “Not a smart move, lass.”

  She folds her arms in front of her chest. “If you try to act like a barb
arian and toss me on that bed, you’re going to be in big trouble.”

  I take a step toward her and she holds up her hand. “Roark, I’m being serious. Don’t even think about it.”

  Another step.

  “Roark.”

  I close the last few inches and scoop her up over my shoulder. “Roark,” she screeches and then laughs when I press a kiss to her ass and take her the two steps to the bed. I toss her onto the mattress and watch as her hair fans out and her tits bounce with her fall.

  Fucking perfect.

  I shuck my jeans in seconds and then hover above her, but before I can do anything, she pushes up and slams me onto the mattress so my head is at the headboard. Shit, I didn’t see that coming, but I like it.

  “Nice move, lass.”

  She doesn’t respond, instead, she sits on my stomach, hands to my chest. “Do you really think we’re about to have sex right now?”

  “My dick does.” She reaches behind her, finds my already erect cock and rolls her eyes.

  “You’re thirty-two, shouldn’t you be less . . . sexually potent?”

  “Are you calling me old?”

  She shrugs with a smile. “You’re not a spring chicken.”

  Eyes wide, I answer, “I’m not some fucking geezer with a cane.”

  Her smile grows. “Might as well be since you’re in your thirties.”

  “Are you looking for me to spank you? Is that what you’re asking for? I can arrange it.”

  “Is that an older-man thing, likes to punish the girl he’s with? I’m just so young, I have no idea,” she says in an innocent yet obnoxiously sarcastic voice.

  I run my tongue over my teeth, contemplating what I should do. I should “punish” her, but before I can make a move, she spins around and faces her back toward me and in one fell swoop, bends forward, taking my cock in her hands.

  “Ah, fuck.” I breathe out slowly, my hands instinctively going to her ass. “Sutton.”

  She grips the base of my cock tightly and the lowers her mouth to my cock where she lightly licks the tip. A hiss escapes my lips, so she does it again, but this time she swirls her tongue around the head and pumps my length.