The Bad Boy's Palything: A Dark High School Bully Romance

by Lannah Smith

  And he realized, there was no other woman who made him feel this way, no other woman who’d go through such great lengths to protect him.

  Everything April had done to him was for him.

  Throwing him aside.

  Breaking his heart.

  Rejecting him continuously.

  The lying, the backstabbing, the insults.

  Everything she had done was for him.

  Her father was going to fucking pay for tearing her apart, for tearing both of them apart.

  "How?" April stammered, her palms resting against her forehead. "How can you stand there and tell me that you love me when you know the truth? He killed your parents, Christopher. He killed your sister. He ruined your life. How can you even look at my face? I'm the daughter of your family's killer."

  Eyes glued to her, he got closer, his hands reaching for her wrists, pulling her hands down from her face. "You had nothing to do with that, honey," he said softly.

  Her head jerked back with such force, her whole body jolted and if it weren’t for him holding her, she would have fallen back. "It doesn't change the fact that his blood runs through my veins!" she shrieked.

  He leaned closer. "And you tried to atone for that all this time, April."

  "Don't..." she begged.

  "You're not him," he told her, his arm hooking around her waist, hauling her in. His face followed hers as her eyes moved anywhere but to him. "You're you. You're April. You're loved. And you're mine."

  “It’s not right,” she mumbled. “It’s not… we can’t—.”

  His mouth hit hers, effectively silencing her.

  He kissed her, his tongue spiking inside, and she kissed him back, almost desperately, her fingers bunching in his shirt.

  When he lifted his head, he said, "If it's a sin to love you, I'll gladly shake hands with the Devil himself when I see him in hell. So just give up, April."

  Her hands twisted in his shirt. “It’s dangerous—.”

  "Give up. And entrust your life to me."

  "I can't," she sobbed. “I can’t… He’ll kill you.”

  His hand came to wrap around the back of her neck. "You can, honey. You know you can. Don’t let him win. Don’t give him the satisfaction of having that kind of hold in you."

  They locked eyes and Christopher held her agonized gaze.

  Then she whispered, "I never wanted to be part of this world."

  His thumb caressed her cheek. "That makes two of us, honey."

  "I could never run away from this, couldn't I? It was a fool's dream thinking I'd be normal."

  "I'll give you normal. Let me in and I'll give you everything that your heart desires."

  "And at what expense?" she inhaled sharply. "You?"

  He chuckled. "I'll gladly give my life for you."

  She sobbed and looked away.

  "You're worth the sacrifice, April. And Grant knew that."

  "I don't want anyone to die for me."

  He cupped her face and made her look at him again.

  "Then I won't die," he told her firmly. "I'll live as long as I could for you. Just say the words."

  Her wet eyes searched his. Her lips trembled. Her face was pale and she was trying to hold on to her control, to her pride.

  Finally, she said, "Don't die then."

  Then her lips were on his mouth.

  Chapter 55

  April kissed him, desperately, with everything she had, her mouth opening over his, his doing the same to hers.

  Christopher's fingers glided into her hair, fisting and she pressed herself as tight against him as possible, arms around his neck. Locking them. Holding on tight. Longing for this to happen but not in a way this had to happen.

  Still, it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever experienced.

  The most wondrous gift he'd ever been given in his life.

  Because she was now loving him.

  She broke contact with his mouth and took her arms from around his shoulders. Her hands going to her sweater, she yanked it over her head and tossed it aside. His throbbing began and it got harder and harder with each cloth she removed until there was nothing left.

  fuck, she was hot.

  And she wanted him.

  Though he wanted to give it to her, though he wanted to get in there fucking finally having dreamed about this moment for years, he managed to retain a semblance of control, reminding him that he couldn’t fuck her for the first time in his fucking office.

  “Honey—.”

  She fisted his shirt and pulled it over his head.

  “We can’t—.”

  Her mouth hit his again, sweeping her tongue inside. Then he felt her undo his jeans. Then she was kissing his chest, trailing her wet mouth across his skin. And that was it. If he had any control, it was gone when her fingers circled around him and stroked.

  Bringing her head back up, he brought his open mouth down, crushing her lips, making the kiss hot, hard, wet and fast while their hands couldn’t move quickly enough to touch each other. He ran his hands down her back and over her ass. She knew what he wanted and gave a little hop. He caught her ass in his hands and she wrapped her legs around his hips. As she did, he lowered her to the couch and laid her down.

  Her nakedness was spellbinding, mesmerizing and even though he imagined her like this so many times, his thoughts did not do her justice. Her breasts were beautiful, cupped perfectly round. The small line of split between her legs fueled his desire like oil to a fire. Gently, he rubbed his thumb along that line and was not surprised from how wet it was.

  She groaned.

  He put a knee on the couch and lowered himself over her, sucking on a nipple, flicking his tongue in rhythm to what his hand was doing. And all she could do was hold his head close.

  The more she groaned, the more he rubbed and sucked and the more he rubbed and sucked, the more his throbbing became even more painful.

  “Please,” she begged him, tugging on his hair. “Please.”

  Christopher was glad the lights were on. He wanted to see her when he fucked her. He wanted to see her come for him and he didn't waste any time to do it. Luckily, she was in just as much of a hurry.

  He lifted his head just in time to see her head jerked back, trembling all over, and she came with a loud, pleasured scream.

  She was still climaxing when he pulled her legs apart and grabbed himself, rubbing against her.

  She screamed when he surged forward and buried himself deep and bit into his shoulder when he began to ease back and forth to let himself in deeper.

  “Christopher,” she breathed, digging her heels in his ass and pushed up.

  It felt so fucking great he nearly forgot everything just feeling it. But he had the presence of mind to slam his mouth down on hers to capture her moans and to repress his own.

  She rocked her hips up and down as if trying to speed up his motions. So he fucked her as hard as he could, a little gasp coming from her every time he drove in deep. Soon they were slamming into each other at a furious pace. Then he felt her squeezing him with her muscles and in doing so, sent him over the edge, his world exploding.

  He couldn’t capture her scream when he buried his face in her neck, sucking her skin.

  When he came down, her long legs were still locked tight around him, her arms still holding him, her fingers now sifting through his hair like she was memorizing the feel. He didn’t move right away, enjoying the feel of all his skin pressed against hers.

  “You okay?” he asked breathlessly.

  “Yeah,” she whispered.

  “Are you mine, honey?”

  She didn’t speak. He lifted his head to look at her.

  It took a while before she could meet his gaze.

  “Yes” she told him, her eyes growing wet. “I’m yours.”

  And that was enough.

  “Now kiss me again.”

  And he did.

  I opened my eyes and squinted at the brightness that slowly filled the room. I tried t
o bring a hand up to cover my eyes but realized I couldn’t. An arm was wrapped around my body so tight there was no room for movement.

  Turning my head, I looked at Christopher who was sleeping soundly behind me. His face was half-buried in my hair, the naked length of him warming my back. Memories of last night played through my mind, reminding me that I was in his study and that we were on the couch, naked under the throw blanket. I twisted my head to stare at the leather in front of me, letting out an exhale. Or a groan. I wasn’t sure.

  Then I heard a thud and I whipped my head around, realizing belatedly the arm around me was gone. Christopher wasn’t behind me anymore. Lifting my upper body up, I looked over the couch to see him lying on the carpet. My lips twitched.

  "I can't believe this," he muttered groggily as he sat up, scratching his head. "I've never fallen out of a bed before."

  "Well, it is a couch," I pointed out.

  "Your fart must have blasted me clear off the edge."

  I lost my amusement. "I seriously doubt that."

  Like I hadn’t spoken at all, he yawned and scratched his jaw. He looked like a caveman with his messy hair sticking out in all directions and his beard scraggly. naked as he were, luckily, the blanket that he brought half down with him covered his manhood.

  I nabbed his hooded jacket off the floor and pulled it over my naked skin. He stared at me as I did, his eyes lighting with lazy appreciation.

  "Were you spacing out?" he asked.

  I shook my head, looking for my panties. " You could have slept some more."

  "I could if your fart—."

  I stopped my search and glared at him. "You're such a jerk."

  He chuckled and climbed back up the couch, moving behind me. Resting his back on the arm of the couch, he covered the both of us with the blanket and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up between his legs and against him. I sighed as I leaned my head against his shoulder and gazed out the windows into the sunrise.

  He was such a good man. A loving man. He deserved better than the likes of me. But he never realized that obvious fact and now, I was so thankful he never did.

  "I don't want you to get the wrong impression, Christopher," I mumbled.

  His voice was tinged in amusement when he said, "I haven't but I think you're about to tell me otherwise."

  "What's done is done but this doesn't change anything."

  His fingers trailed down the skin of my thighs, sending sparks all over my body. "Sure, it doesn't." I slapped his hand away and his body shook in restrained laughter. "Don't worry about it,” he went on. “I'm the bad guy. I promised you I wouldn't touch you again and look at what I did."

  "Oh, just shut up," I muttered irately and he roared with laughter.

  Despite initially feeling like everything had become a nightmare, this morning was turning especially sweet. Peaceful contentment stole over me, radiating from Christopher’s to me. We fell silent, watching the beautiful view of the perfectly clear sky and the sparkling sea outside the windows.

  "About your parents..." I started.

  Again, his arms squeezed me. "Still not your fault."

  I sighed. "Christopher..."

  He twisted my body around until my legs were over his leg and brought my chin up so he could look at my eyes. "I'm going to make you understand, right here, right now, that I don't want you to blame yourself for all the misfortunes that happened in my life,” he told me gently but sternly. The tenderness in his gaze tugged at my heart. “I don't want to say that the past belongs in the past because that would be trivializing all our pain and all our sacrifices but we could learn from all that, honey. We could learn and we could move on and we could show the fucking world that no matter how much shit they throw our way, it wouldn't matter as long as we're together."

  Still, the past made him what he was now, made him part of the underworld, a criminal, a boss.

  My gaze went down to the scar on his chest and a familiar ache filled my chest.

  And I was who I was. A murderer’s daughter.

  “But you can’t change who I am, Christopher,” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You can’t change the blood that runs in my veins.”

  “I can’t and I won’t.” His thumb skimmed my cheek lightly before his hand sifted through my hair, wrapping around the back of my skull, bringing my face close to his. “The past is a part of us, honey. We can’t change that. We can never throw it away but we can choose to be better right?"

  The conviction in his voice wasn’t enough to smother my guilt and sorrow. The lingering image I see when I close my eyes, of a child crying alone in an overturned car while his parents were dying, they weighed heavily on me along with other images of the dead.

  "I can see I have a lot of persuading to do," he muttered, looking at me closely. "It doesn't matter. We have all the time in the world now. You already said you were mine. And I’m yours, honey."

  Tears welled up in my eyes and I started trembling.

  “How the hell did you get so wise, Christopher?" I said in a shaky voice.

  He did a slow blink.

  Then he said, "I'm not."

  He was. He had always been wise.

  Don’t ever let me leave you, I suddenly thought desperately. Don’t ever let me go. Make me stay with you forever.

  How I wanted to tell him I loved him, to lean on him. Even though he freed me from the accursed knowledge that had eaten at me all my life, the pain, the guilt, of knowing that I was bred from the man who killed his family, I was still afraid, so afraid. My father had told me what he’d done to Christopher’s parents after learning that I had been sneaking around with him that summer. He told me that to gain my total obedience and fear. He told me that, knowing how much Christopher had mean so much to me.

  I had never wanted to throw him aside. And right now, I never wanted to leave his side anymore but the future terrified me so much.

  Don’t ever let me leave you again, Christopher.

  "I've always hated when people call you dumb in school.” I rested my cheek on his skin and let out a frustrated exhale. “And I was no better. I called you a lot of horrible names."

  "In retrospect, I cared more about the fact that you noticed me enough to call me those names."

  "Still, I know they upset you."

  "You know I don't hold grudges, honey. But if you're really feeling remorseful and wanted to make it up to me..." when I lifted my head and my eyes to him, the look he gave me was clear. Very clear.

  I slapped his bare shoulder and he winced.

  "You never take me seriously," I accused.

  "Because we have better things to do than waste time talking about forgiveness,” he said in defense as his eyes danced. “You know I've already forgiven all the shit you did to me in the past, April. Especially when I saw that it upset you doing that more than it could upset me."

  Suddenly, I was once against struck with the urge to cry.

  Damn but in all of my life, I hadn't cried this many bucket of tears until Christopher came back to my life.

  "You're bit of a crybaby, are you?" he said, studying me closely with a smile.

  "Shut up," I mumbled.

  "Don't worry. I also love that about you."

  I slapped his shoulder again. "Just shut up!"

  His arms tight around me, he shoved his face into my neck, his laughter sounding against my skin.

  “I can’t breathe, Christopher,” I complained, struggling.

  Loosening his hold, he lifted his head and looked at me, smiling huge. “I’m trying to distract myself, honey. You do know that I’m naked right? And you do know that you’re only wearing this jacket,” he continued, tugging at it, “right?”

  Oh, I knew he was naked. I was well aware of his hard manhood on my thigh. And I was also impressed by the strength of his willpower and self-control while we carried on with our conversation.

  Caught in his gaze, I realized how much I missed those brown eyes all those years that I was gone
. I missed him so much. I just tried to convince myself that I didn’t so the pain of longing wouldn’t control me completely.

  "Did you hate me? Even a little?"

  He was silent for a few more seconds.