BAD BOY ROMANCE: A Wifey for the Bad Boy (Contemporary Alpha Male Romance Book) (New Adult Alpha Male Romance Short Stories)

by Ava May

  “You know, I really missed you,” she said in a breathy whisper, bringing her mouth to my ear, so close that I could feel her breath. I closed my eyes and felt my chest heave as I inhaled sharply. Her fingers ran down my thigh and squeezed tightly. All of a sudden I felt my pussy twitch and I wanted her more than I wanted anything. I growled and locked eyes with her, and she wanted it too, I could see everything. We were naked with each other, completely vulnerable, hurt by our exes and the only way to tend to the wounds was to by re-discovering everything we had lost.

  Chapter 7

  When we returned to my apartment the world was a blur of hands and lips and hair. I lost myself in her, just like I always used to do, stumbling about and crashing into things as we kissed. We laughed at the destruction we caused but I didn't care about anything other than being with her. It had been so long since my body had felt true passion that it was screaming loudly and every one of my erogenous zones was alight with a fiery burst of steaming lust.

  Our lips locked and our tongues danced together as we surrendered to the whirling hurricane that enveloped us. It was so easy to be with her, so familiar and natural and I suddenly felt sad that we had missed out on so many years together.

  We tore each other’s clothes away and I was surprised to see the presence of a ring in her navel and a tattoo on her hip, winding down to her thigh. I stroked it with my fingers and kissed it, breathing in her sweet feminine scent, as I grew ever closer to heaven. As I buried myself in her she told me all about her tattoo and what it meant. Her words were strained as they combined with moans. I felt her back arch, and she placed her arms over her head, as if her body was mine. I licked and sucked and got as deep inside her as I could, my hair splayed over her thighs and soon enough I rendered her speechless with the force of my passion. I felt her shudder and it was the sweetest feeling because it made me feel sexy again, and when she moaned my name my heart jumped out of my chest and I traveled up her body once more to lose myself in a long embrace.

  Her hands roamed around my body, and she kept calling me sexy and it made me feel so good because I'd put on a little weight since we had last been together, but she dragged her hand teasingly down the valley in between my breasts and twisted my nipples and then she turned me around, straddling my ass as she pressed herself against me. I felt her breasts flatten against my back and her lips were against my neck, making me tingle with sweet delight. Her hands slid down my sides, tickling me, as she started to kiss my back and spine, and then shifted her body so that she could move her fingers down between my legs, feeling me writhe as she teased and toyed with me, just like she used to do, oh she was always so good at making me come. My eyes squeezed shut as I gave into the delirium and felt my whole body tense and throb for Shannon, my Shannon.

  I clenched the bed sheets as I tried to brace myself for the pain and I twisted my neck so that I could see her. Her red hair fell over her face once more, but when I looked at her I saw love, and I started to think that maybe, after everything I'd been through and everything that had happened with Lacey, just maybe I deserved a second chance. And that was the last thought as the pleasure gripped my mind and I felt thunder rumble through my body.

  THE END

  Best Friends with Benefits

  Best Friends with Benefits

  Chapter 1

  Have you ever been completely in love with someone and not even realize it? That was me with Bea. Short for Beatrice. She hated her name, and felt that her parents had had it in for in since she was born. She took it out on them whenever she could. In many ways she could be mean and nasty, especially to her mother, who otherwise was the sweetest creature, but it didn't stop me loving her any less.

  The two of us were inseparable from an early age. Bea and Angelina, or Angel as people like to call me. A & B. The Angel and the devil. I had bouncy blonde hair and a milky complexion with the sweetest smile that anyone had ever seen. When I was younger, I used to get whatever I wanted and I was treated like a princess, but Bea never gave in to me when I pouted and widened my puppy-dog eyes. She was the only one to stand firm, and I guess that's why she stood out from the crowd. She was always a bit of a tomboy and it reached its nadir in our teenage years when, to the behest of pretty much everyone, she chopped off her beautiful dark hair. It was all thick and lustrous and was the envy of many a girl, including me, but it wasn't what Bea wanted so it went. Anything Bea didn't want went away. She was ruthless, chopping away anything that she didn't want in her life, whether it was her hair or people.

  As soon as high school ended we left for the big city because Bea wanted to cut our home out of her life as well. It's been five years now and she hasn't been home once, not for birthdays or Christmas. The only time she was tempted was when her cat died, but when it came down to it, she couldn't. I never really understood why she was so against going home because to me it was always a safe place where I was nurtured and loved. I still went home regularly because it wasn't like it was even a massive journey, and I loved going back and catching up with my mom and dad. I even ended up going to see Bea's as well, and they were always grateful for the updates I gave them about their daughter. It was crushing to go down there though. I almost hated it because I had to see the look on their faces, the sheer anguish in their eyes, as they had to hear about their daughter by proxy. They always smiled, but behind the smiles were sad eyes, and I knew that as soon as I left they collapsed into sobs. I tried to tell Bea about it and to get her to go and spend some time with her parents but she refused. She never gave me a solid answer either. Whenever I asked she shrugged her shoulders and looked away, as though it wasn't a big deal, but it was to them. I can't imagine how soul-destroying it must have been for them to be separated from their only daughter, to have to live their lives knowing that she was out there and had exiled herself by choice. It must have been worse than if she died...and I felt bad too because I was there with Bea, living with her every day when she should have been with her parents.

  The truth is I didn't even really want to leave. I know a lot of people can't wait to leave home but I loved it there. My parents were great and sure there were times when things got a bit strained but that's the same in any family and it doesn't mean that things are bad, it's just the natural way of people. You coop anyone up for too long and they're going to get on each other’s nerves. My parents always gave me everything I wanted and they set me up well for life. My mom was the best cook as well and the thing I miss most about home is her cooking. But I mean, I could have stayed there and been quite happy. It's nice to have people around that care about you, to have a bit of a safety net.

  But when Bea said she was leaving I knew I had to go. We were more than friends, more than sisters, and I knew that our destinies were tied together. I couldn't imagine life without her and when she set her mind on something she could not be shaken from her focus, so although it wasn't ideal for me I found myself packing my things and trying to stop myself from crying whenever I was around my mother, because she was always one second away from collapsing in tears. I often wonder whether Bea even bothered to give her parents warning that she was moving out. It wouldn't have surprised me had she just up and left one day, and not even bothered to leave a note. She was like that, Bea, sometimes she could be so selfish and single-minded that she tore a destructive path through everything, like in senior year when casually mentioned that Mel had been cheating on Chad with his brother. Mel was furious, and Bea didn't even hate her or anything, she just did it because she said she was bored.

  Sometimes I thought that was Bea's favorite word. She always said that she was bored and this led to her having a myriad of careers. She started off working as a waitress in a coffee shop but ended that when she said the manager tried to harass her, and that made me gag when I thought about anyone having to do anything with his greasy palms. Then she got involved in helping a political campaign, just working in the office. I never understood why because Bea never really talked about politics. I'm not
sure what she believed in, since she never seemed that bothered by anything.

  Everyone's the same, they just wear different colors. What's really changed? Really? As soon as anyone gets in office they have to undo what the previous President did and then the person who follows them undoes whatever they do. Better to just not worry about it. It's easier on the mind.

  I kind of hoped that working in the environment would have a positive effect on her, but in the next campaign she got a job working for the rival. Go figure. What else did she do? Oh yeah, she worked at the cinema, which was great because she got me in to see loads of films for free, then she tried her hand in an office but that didn't even last a day. Bea wasn't good with rules. She was a free spirit in the truest sense of the word, and any authority figure is going to have their work cut out for them if they try to get her to do anything she doesn't want to do.

  But Bea never had a direction in life and again it contrasted how opposite we were. I knew exactly what I want to be and I had managed to work my way up the fashion industry to where I was the assistant to the editor at a prestigious magazine. Bea wasn't impressed, and thought that I was setting feminism back fifty years by working in the fashion industry. She thought it was too narrow-minded of me to be pigeonholed in that industry, but that was just the way she was and I knew she didn't mean it personally. I think part of it was borne from the frustration that she didn't know what she wanted to do. I think she always thought that I had it easy, and that things just worked out for me.

  You're the pretty one, all you have to do is flash those baby blues and people melt.

  What she neglected to remember was that she was just as pretty as me, she purposefully gave herself a look that was confrontational. I guess from this picture you probably think that she's a nasty girl without any redeeming features, and you're probably wondering why I put up with her for so long, and how I could even love her. I've often noticed that love is complex and takes on many forms. There have been so many words and songs and movies written about it that I thought it was going to be difficult to sum it up, but really it's quite simple. Love doesn't have to be complex all the time. Sometimes it's a self-evident truth and that's the way it was with us. You see, for all of her faults, and like anyone she had plenty, Bea was loyal, and when she took you under her wing she would make sure that nothing ever harmed you. She protected me, and she cared for me. She was there for me when I needed her, and no matter what she did to anyone else or how she behaved I knew that she would always have my back.

  Chapter 2

  Living with Bea is mostly fun, but there are periods when it's difficult. Sometimes she'll go off for days and I won't hear anything from her until she gets back. The first time she did it I blew up at her but it rolled off her back so there was no point me getting angry again. I just had to deal with it. That's what you had to do with Bea, change yourself to accommodate her, because she was going to do anything she wanted. Sometimes she would go off with her latest boyfriend. Her relationships never lasted that long, and I don't think she was ever truly invested in any of them. Like everything else, it was just something to do, something to keep her occupied. If I had my way she would have been more... selective in her choice of lovers, as I don't think many of the men were worthy of her. Sometimes I could hear them in the other room, the heavy moans and the grunts. The walls shuddered as the bed shook and then the thunderclap happened as whichever man it was at the time released his fury within. The strange thing is, I never heard Bea scream in ecstasy. Not with the men anyway. When she was alone in her room she did, and I wondered who she thought of when she was pleasuring herself. But whenever I heard her soft moans crack through the silence my own hand slipped in between my thighs and I felt the sweet pleasure overwhelm me.

  I don't know when I first became aware of my feelings for Bea. Sometimes I think they were always there, even when I was a child and couldn't comprehend what the feelings meant. Then they surreptitiously slithered through my soul and bloomed when the rush of adolescent hormones surged through my body, and I was left helpless. I started to feel funny when I was around her. My stomach churned and my skin tingled whenever she touched me. My skin flushed and it felt like every part of me was on fire. I found my eyes drifting towards her automatically, and I had to make a conscious effort to pull them away. My thoughts were consumed by her and my heart raged within my chest.

  I had a burning desire for her and I didn't know how to deal with it. It hurt me so much that I spent nights crying with frustration because I simply didn't know how to deal with my feelings. I'd always known that I was a little different because I could never join in properly when the girls were talking about all the boys they liked. I had to pretend and smile and act like I knew what they were feeling, but I didn't really know until my feelings for Bea flourished.

  There were times when I followed her around like a puppy dog and I knew that it was bad and that I was suffocating her but I couldn't help it. She and everyone else out it down to the idea that I needed her for strength...I just needed her.

  I started to notice the littlest things about her, like the way she would cock an eyebrow to indicate surprise; a gesture inspired by Mr. Spock from the endless re-runs of Star Trek, which I watched because she watched them even though I never understood what she loved so much about them. Then there was her laugh, it came out like bubbles and seemed to float through the air, its lilting tones so golden and glorious. I wanted to wrap myself up in that laugh and wear it like a blanket. She didn't always laugh, but I could always make her laugh and so it became my laugh, and I cherished it.

  Chapter 3

  But I was in endless agony because I couldn't tell her how I felt. The swirling, turbulent, intense emotions were locked inside the cage of my heart. We had been friends for longer than we could remember and even if we hadn't she liked boys. She'd had a boyfriend before and she would have one again and she always told me about this or that boy that tried it on with her and we would laugh at how she declined their offers with a sneering, ridiculing comment that would have shattered their confidence and made them turn tail and scurry away.

  I was afraid of being the recipient of one of those comments. We laughed at them, but my laugh was hollow, tinged with fear and sadness, because I knew that she was unattainable and my poor, wretched heart wouldn't be able to move on.

  Caught in the lens of teenage angst the whole thing seems melodramatic now, and I feel foolish for the way I dealt with it. I should have been honest with her from the start I suppose, despite her blunt nature I don't think she would have been mean about it and turned me away like the admirers who lined up because there was something so alluring about the mean girl, the aloof girl, the girl that didn't give a shit about anything. I should know because I was right there with them, except I didn't have the guts to step up to the plate and ask her out. Instead I was on the sidelines, despair twisting in my soul because there was that sliver of vain hope that if I just worked up the courage to tell her the truth then her eyes would light up as she responded by saying that she had felt the same things too...but the fear was too strong and I couldn't escape it. It suffocated and stifled me and no matter how hard I tried to summon the courage to reveal my feelings to someone there was an invisible barrier tightened around my chest, constricting my breath, preventing the words from coming out of my mouth.

  So for the longest time I suffered in silence and I didn't mind it because she never took any of her relationships seriously and they were all with men, so I knew that even if I did tell her how I felt she wouldn't have reciprocated anyway, so I buried them deep down inside where I tried to forget about them, pushed them all the way down, hoping that eventually they would disappear. For a time I thought they had, and the two of us were able to be proper friend again, the way it had always been, and I even got a girlfriend myself, although I kept it a secret from everything. I think Bea knew that something was going on but I remained tight-lipped, and that was part of the problem. She grew tired that
we couldn't share our love out in the open, and that I would always drop everything if Bea called. I didn't tell her that I was in love with Bea but I think she suspected I had deeper feelings for my best friend, and she told me that she couldn't be second best. But I couldn't choose her over Bea.

  And that's been the story of all my relationships since then. Even when I get with someone Bea hangs over us like a shadow. I thought that maybe if she was in a serious relationship then it would help me move on, but when it happened it only made me sicker.

  She was so flighty that I didn't think she would ever settle down with anyone, but when she met Aaron it soon turned into a serious relationship. He was over most nights and I had to hear them make love and then she started screaming. He was the only one, and I hated it. I tried to be a good friend and like him but I hated him and there was always tension between us, even though I would never tell her why I felt like that. The relationship lasted over a year. I had to watch them cook together, do jigsaw puzzles together, play board games together, watch movies together, do all the things that we should have been doing together.