Hearts of Darkness: A Valentine's Day Bully Romance Collection

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

“Okay, but after, do you wanna bowl or watch a movie?”

  I open one eye and look at him. “We can do both if you can show me that you know how to relax.”

  He seems almost childlike when he sits back and closes his eyes.

  AUGUST

  2010

  TWO HOURS AND FIVE minutes is how long it takes for my doorbell to ring. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t getting worried as the clock inched toward the deadline I’d given her. I would have combed the city looking for her like a wild man had she made a different choice.

  I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing bringing her to my place. Until this point, my memories of her were confined to the time we spent together at the big house in Aspen. Now, she’ll tarnish this place, too.

  I pause to breathe before taking my time opening the door. She’s already headed away and has made it to the second-to-last step.

  “Leaving again?” I ask.

  She turns back to me, and despite my tough-guy bravado, I swear my heart stops. How is she even more beautiful than I remember?

  “I thought you’d changed your mind,” she says, walking back up the steps.

  “And I thought you weren’t coming.” I cut my eyes at her.

  She pushes through the door leaving her memorable scent of flowers and strawberries in her wake. She walks around my open loft. At my place, what you see is what you get. There are no hidden corridors or rooms. It’s open and simply decorated with blue, yellow, and brown accents. There’s a bathroom on each floor, and the only bedroom is upstairs. Elody stops in front of my wall of vibrant abstracts. She’s always appreciated fine art.

  “These are beautiful,” she says.

  “I’ll bet your house is full of them,” I reply. I stay near the door while she wanders.

  “I don’t have a house.” Her words are cool.

  My chest burns knowing that she’s still living like a vagabond. She always seems to be leaving.

  “This place is so much smaller than the Aspen house,” she says.

  I smirk. “It suits me.”

  She stops near the kitchen, the air thicker with her presence than I’ve ever felt it. We stare at each other. Part of me can’t believe that she’s really in my house.

  “You know, you’re still the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever seen.”

  She blushes.

  “Take off your clothes,” I say.

  “August.” She pins her eyes to mine and I can tell she’s deciding.

  “What the fuck did you think I meant by a proper goodbye? Did you misunderstand me? I thought I was pretty fucking clear.”

  She shakes her head and casts her eyes down. “I understood just fine.”

  “If this isn’t what you want, then why are you here, Elody?” Saying her name aloud reopens the wounds around my heart. They’re deep and painful and sure to scar again the second she’s gone.

  All of my scars belong to her.

  She stares into my eyes, pulls her coat off, then drops it to the floor. I watch from across the room. My pulse quickens. This woman, like a mythological creature that I sometimes thought I’d only imagined, is here...for me. Remember, this isn’t forever.

  I hiss when her oversized bikini shirt hits the floor. Her body is a work of art in its own right. Her curves are more pronounced now. Those thighs. Those fucking thighs.

  My mind goes back to the first time I tasted her, and those thighs squeezed my head. As young as I was, I’d always known how to please her. She still betrayed me.

  She slips out of her bra and panties and stands before me only in her black boots. Her chest visibly rises and falls. My dick grows and thickens in my pants, but I don’t give it the attention it wants, not yet. I need this to last. I take mental pictures of her perfect breasts and that landing strip that will guide a lucky man to heaven.

  I’ve endured enough. I stalk across the room to her.

  “You left me without a fucking word,” I whisper.

  She tries to look away, but I catch her face between my hands.

  “Look at me, El. You had the balls to break a boy’s heart, face the man now.”

  Her eyes mist with tears. “It should have never fucking happened, August. I should have never had a relationship with you. You were a boy.” The tears spill out of her eyes and I swipe at them and bring my fingers to my mouth, I want all of her.

  “I’ve never been a boy, and you know it. Did I fuck like one?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Did you ever love me?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she says on an exhale and I crush my lips to hers. Her hands tug at my hair, our heavy breathing cannot drown out my pounding heart.

  I pull back and stare at her.

  “Do you want me?” I ask.

  She nods quickly.

  “Say it, El.” I stare through her.

  “I want you, August,” she breathes.

  I push her legs open and slowly sink two fingers inside of her. She’s wet and ready—her body certainly wants me. Her head falls back and moans escape her. My dick threatens to rip through my pants to get to her.

  “Do you still like it rough?”

  “God, yes,” she rasps. I push deeper inside of her, and feel her slick and hot flesh against my fingers.

  I pull them out of her and quickly disrobe. When my full erection springs forth her eyes grow.

  “You’re bigger.”

  I don’t bother to answer. I walk to the credenza and pull a condom from the stack I keep in the drawer. I plan to take as much as I can from her. I tear the wrapper with my teeth and slide the condom on. “Oh, has he missed you.”

  “Not as much as I missed him,” she replies. A smile toying at her lips.

  I rush up to her, put my hand to her throat, and squeeze.

  “Don’t fucking lie to me. You left me, and you can’t do that then tell me you missed me. I should fucking hate you.”

  The fear in her eyes makes me let go.

  “How rough?”

  She looks at me with crazed eyes. “What?”

  “How fucking rough do you want it?” I stare daggers at her.

  “As rough as I deserve,” she demands, but I don’t miss the mist building in her eyes.

  That’s all that I need to hear. I stuff my dick deep inside of her while we’re standing in the middle of my loft. I slam in and out of her, and she lifts her leg and takes it all. Her expression is a mix of pleasure, sorrow and pain.

  I stare into her beautiful marred face as much as I can. I spill inside of her, and she comes right after, in a wave of thrashes and contractions. She screams my name along with her apologies.

  Her body shakes as sobs rip through her.

  I pull out of her and step back and watch her break down. My body heaves with heavy breaths. Why can’t I hate her more?

  “I’m so fucking sorry,” she says through her sobs.

  But I’m not done taking.

  I tear another condom open while I watch her. She wipes her tears, and her neck reddens from my hands. That makes my heart sink. I went too far. She squares her shoulders and lifts her head. Her eyes fix on mine. She’s going to power through.

  I claim her lips with mine again and walk us over to my couch. I pull away and stare into her eyes. I love her so fucking much that I can’t think straight. She ruined me for any other women. I trusted her with my tender heart and she stomped all over it on the way out the door.

  “You left me alone,” I whisper, then spin her around and bend her over my couch.

  I slam deep inside of her. I hold her ass in my hands while I thrust in and out like I’m in a race. Her pussy is slick, smooth, and hot just like I remembered.

  I pour into her twice, shouting and cursing, I pull out without waiting for her. She doesn't deserve it.

  I back away from her. My stomach sinks. I didn’t want to be this asshole of a man. I thought it was my right, but I feel like shit. My heart threatens to burst, my pulse drums against my skin. She turns, sits on t
he edge of my couch and cries so hard. We stare at each other for what feels like forever, my eyes become wet.

  I loved this woman. I still do.

  She shakes her head. “I’m so fucking sorry. Leaving you killed me, but I had no choice.” Her voice is low.

  “Bullshit. Everyone has a choice.”

  She throws up her arm and lets it fall to her side like it’s too heavy to hold up on her own. “Like you had the choice to take all of your anger out on me just now?”

  I look down, embarrassed.

  “You were more of man back then than you are right now, August.”

  Fuck. She’s right.

  “I’m sorry. I just lost it when I saw you. When you left, I wanted to die. Especially when my father told me that you took a job with another family with a younger child. You left me alone without so much as a word, like I wasn’t shit. I guess I wanted you to feel my pain.” I sit on the couch and bury my face in my hands while I force air in and out of my lungs.

  She collapses onto the sofa next to me. “I died, too, August. I loved you so much, but you were only sixteen, and I was an adult. We should have never happened. It was wrong.”

  “That’s such bullshit; eight years is nothing.”

  “The key word is ‘adult.’ I never wanted to leave you. I loved you with all my heart. I still love you, August. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, but also my greatest regret.”

  “So you leave without so much as ‘goodbye,’ even after I told you how I felt and after you saw how lonely I was in that big empty house. You discarded me like garbage.”

  Elody stares at me without blinking because she knows I’m right.

  “Listen, you were too young to understand,” she says.

  I shake my head. “You’re a piece of work. I take back what I said. You treated me worse than garbage. You didn’t have the decency to make sure I was properly taken care of. You left me to decay and wither and die. You turned my home, my heart, and my soul into a fucking landfill.” My voice low and foreboding.

  She starts to gather her things. She slips back into her ridiculous shirt, scoops up her coat, and begins to thread her arms through it. Her head is down, and she looks exhausted.

  Damn, I have a way with the ladies.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” I ask. “I’m not finished taking what I need from you.”

  She stares back at me with one arm in her coat and lets out a harsh breath.

  “August, what more do I have to give?”

  My shoulders sag. “Every fucking thing.”

  She lets her coat fall from her arms and stares at me. Her face is void of emotion—flat.

  “What will this solve?”

  A slick smile grows on my face, suggesting I know exactly what I’m doing, which is bullshit. I’m playing with fire. “Not a goddamned thing, but you owe me.”

  I close the distance between us and lace my fingers with hers. Why did she have to break us? We could have been years into our happily ever after. With her, I used to believe in things like that. In the short time we were together, I believed anything was possible. I believed that the world was bright and true love was real. How could I not, when I’d found the woman I loved at sixteen? I gave her every single bit of my soul. I carved out a place for her in my heart, and she discarded me. Fuck her.

  She doesn’t resist when I pull her up my stairs. Either she’s really good at making amends for a misdeed, or she wants this as much as I do.

  ELODY

  2010

  I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M here in August’s loft. I couldn’t sleep, so I made my way downstairs to think for a bit. He’s every bit as intense and intimidating as I remember. I love him so much, but there is so much at stake. His father never put a time stamp on his threat to stay away, but I imagine it was open-ended. His message was loud and clear: I’m not good enough for his son.

  I almost told him. The look in his eyes was hate mixed with heartbreak. His burning gaze revealed he was doing everything in his power to keep his cool. Knowing I had an answer that would make it all go away was almost too much for me to bear.

  Even with his anger, the sex was...perfect. I let him take it all out on me and received everything that he had to give.

  My phone rings, and I rush over to my purse to answer before it wakes him. I return to the window seat that looks out onto the street. The cars parked along the road are covered with fresh white powder. I shiver at the thought of leaving his place and hitting the cold air. Florida will be a welcome change for me.

  “Hello,” I answer quietly.

  “Girl, where are you?” Portia asks. “I woke up and went to your room, and you weren’t there. You didn’t come back to the house?”

  Portia refused the money I’d offered to stay in her guest bedroom for two weeks until my next job.

  “I’m still at August’s place.”

  “What?”

  “Yep.”

  “And?” she asks.

  I giggle. “Um, it’s a long story.”

  I hear the bedroom door open.

  “Portia, I gotta go. I’ll be back at your place later.” I’m careful not to say ‘home.’

  I look up toward the top of the stairs and wait. He appears wearing boxer briefs and no shirt and stops short when he sees me. His body is muscled perfection. He stares at me with a shocked expression.

  “I thought you’d left.”

  I shake my head.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks as he walks down the stairs.

  I bite the side of my finger and watch his every step, until he’s standing in front of me.

  He pulls my finger out of my mouth. “Don’t do that,” he says and smacks his lips to mine, his hands resting on my thighs.

  “Why?”

  “It’s too fucking sexy. It’s one of the million sexy things I remember about you.” He smacks my thigh, and pulls me by the hand. “I would very much like to feed you.”

  “Feed me what, your dick?” I joke. I have no idea why I said that. My brain is misfiring, and I’m dreading being kicked out now that he’s done with me.

  He stops dead in his tracks and stares at me in shock, but the smile that crosses his face tells me the idea has potential. “Uh, I was talking about food, but if you’re still hungry after you eat, let me know.” He pulls me toward his kitchen.

  “Nice shirt.”

  I smirk. “It belongs to you.”

  “Much better than the bikini shirt,” he says as he pulls eggs from the fridge and a loaf of bread from the counter.

  “That’s my ‘fuck the cold weather, I’m moving to Florida’ shirt,” I scoff.

  He pauses for a second, then continues cracking eggs into a bowl. He pulls out a pan, places it on the stove, and turns the flame on low. His blue eyes find mine, and I can’t read what he is thinking, but he’s got something brewing in that gorgeous head of his. He whisks the eggs.

  “You can burn that shirt because you aren’t moving to Florida.” He says it with such confidence that he doesn’t even bother looking at me.

  “What are you talking about? I told you, I’m moving in two weeks.”

  “Listen, El, I made my mind up last night that if you were still here this morning it meant we still have a chance to make this work. I don’t see any reason why the two of us shouldn’t be together. We’ve already wasted enough fucking time.”

  “So, you forgive me?”

  He shakes his head and purses his lips. “No.”

  I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. He is so bossy and overconfident like the cocky kid I remember. “I’m moving to Florida, I already took a job.”

  He pours the eggs in the pan.

  “Nonsense. You’re not leaving me again. You told me you still love me and I still love you. There’s no way on this earth I’m letting you go again. You can move in here.” He walks over, runs his hands through my hair, and kisses my face until I’m squealing in delight.

  “Hmm,
maybe I do like squealing chicks after all. Especially when the squeals belong to the woman I love,” he says, more to himself than to me.

  “Do you hear yourself? We haven't seen each other in eight years, August. You’re twenty-four and I’m thirty-two. We can’t just start up again.” I lean over on the barstool so he can see my scrunched up face at his idea.

  “I don’t care about age gaps. I didn’t care when I was sixteen. Do you think I care now?” He rushes over to kiss me playfully again. His happiness is infectious; thrums of energy course through my body.

  “The eggs!” I shout through my laughter.

  “Shit!” he releases me, pulls the pan off the stove, and scrapes them onto a plate.

  I hop off the stool and pop the bread in the toaster, then search his cabinets to find two plates and utensils. I place them on the island.

  “There’s juice in the fridge,” he tells me.

  With all the synchronicity of a couple that has been together for years, we finish preparing breakfast, then sit at the table.

  We sit so close that it’s hard to eat.

  “So what you’re telling me is that I have two weeks to make you fall so hard that you would rather die than leave me?” he asks, smiling down at me. His mouth is full of food.

  “Even if that were possible, and you wooed me so well that I turn into a stalker, we have one problem,” I say to him.

  Confusion mars his beautiful face. “What problem?”

  I ignore his question and jab my fork into my eggs. If my mouth is full, I can’t answer his question. I stare down at my plate, like I’m eating the best-tasting food in the world instead of overcooked eggs.

  “Elody?”

  My name sounds so beautiful from his lips. I sigh. “Your parents.”

  He drops his fork onto his plate, and the clanging sound makes me jump.

  “What could my parents have to do with us?”

  I shrug. I’ve said too much. “Are they really going to be okay with you being in a relationship with the former help?”

  His lips form a tight line and his eyes darken. “I left home right after you did. My parents don’t have shit to do with who I date.”

  “Or, we could spend two weeks together and part as friends,” I say.