Wanted: A Bad Boy Romance

by Hawk, Maya

  Things that couldn’t wait.

  The door swings open a moment later. Titan’s muscled frame fills the doorway, his elbow resting against the wood. He scratches his chin, and drinks me up and down with a sideways glance.

  “You going to invite me in?” I ask.

  He steps back, motioning for me to come inside.

  I drop the tote on the floor and look around. The place is hardly the size of my bedroom – his old room – back at the lake house. It smells awful: like stale cigarette smoke and must.

  “What are you doing here, Jordana?” He shuts the door, hooking his hands on his hips. I’m not sure how I missed the fact that he’s completely shirtless, but there he is. Standing before me. Nothing but low-hanging sweats, rippled abs, and a jacked chest covered in intricate tattoos.

  “I had no idea you’d moved out,” I say, arms folded.

  “Wasn’t aware I had to keep you in the loop.”

  “It’s common courtesy.”

  “Why? Because you think we’re some kind of family now or because I fucked you?”

  I stand straight, daring myself to hold his intense stare.

  “You don’t just have sex with someone and disappear,” I say. “It’s confusing…”

  He scoffs. “What part of that is confusing? We didn’t have sex. We fucked. Huge difference.”

  “I don’t like feeling used.”

  “You used me just as much as I used you.”

  None of my feelings make sense. None of my arguments feel like my own. Everything coursing through my body is unfamiliar, foreign.

  I hate that I had sex with him.

  And I hate that I want to have sex with him again.

  “You weren’t used,” he says.

  “Easy for you to say.”

  “The hell does that mean?”

  “Men are wired differently,” I say. “You’re programmed to be able to-”

  Titan’s head snaps back and he groans. “Need to get your damn nose out of those fucking textbooks. Not everything can be chalked up to research and studies.”

  “Yes it can.” My gaze narrows. “It’s science.”

  “Sometimes…sex is just sex. Gotta take the science out of it.” He crouches down to the tote, popping off the lid and pulling out all the things I’d shoved in there in haste shortly after dinner. “Anyway, what’s this got to do with me? You think you’re my fucking girlfriend now?”

  My heart leaps. That’s not my point at all. God. I don’t want him thinking that I’m in love with him now.

  “Absolutely not. No.” I can taste the desperation in my voice. I’m desperate to ensure he knows I’m not suddenly crushing on him.

  Titan lifts a toaster and sets it aside, picking through the next few items. “Right. So why are you really here, Jordana?”

  I…don’t know.

  All I know is my insides are firing on all cylinders, and I can’t handle the way my body reacts when I think about that night. Titan’s coursing through me like a poison, and as far as I know, no anti-venom exists for a condition like this.

  “I told you,” I say. “Just dropping off a few things for you.”

  Our eyes meet again. He rakes his chin and smirks before glancing away.

  “Prison’s full of liars,” he says. “You meet enough of them, you get good at seeing right through them. Kind of become a human lie detector by the time it’s all said and done.”

  “I should go.” I push past him, heading toward the door, but he blocks me.

  “I know why you’re here, Jordana.” His voice is low, humming through his chest. We’re close now, the distance between us narrow. He smells like soap and aftershave. The cheap, drugstore kind. Extra rugged and unapologetically in-your-face. His scent consumes me, fills me.

  My arms cross tight, snugly secure across my chest as I try and steady my breathing.

  “You do, do you?” I ask, though it’s more of a statement.

  “You came back for more,” he smirks, his expression relaxing. “I’m flattered, Jordana. Really. But it was a one-time thing. You’ll have to get your bad boy fix somewhere else. Shop is closed.”

  My jaw falls to the floor, my face pinching.

  Who does he think he is?!

  “Believe me, I do not want to sleep with you again.” I’m not one to make a habit out of telling bold-faced lies, but in this case, I don’t have a choice. “Once was enough.”

  The tightness in my chest must stem from hurt. I despise the fact that regardless of what happens from here on out, I want him to want to fuck me again.

  “Once is never enough,” he says. “But I’m not looking for something regular, get what I’m saying?”

  “No one said anything about being fuck buddies.”

  “It’s cute that you pretended to drop this shit off so you could see me again,” he says. “But I see right through you. You want to hook up. It’s not happening.”

  “Oh. Oh!” I laugh. “I see where this is going. You’re using reverse psychology on me. You think the more you push, the more I’m going to pull.”

  And it’s sort of working…

  Titan’s dark brows set. “Not at all. I’m being honest with you. I do not want to fuck you right now.”

  His words sting. But I won’t allow myself to cry. I don’t believe him. He’s a criminal. Criminals lie. It’s what they do best. They keep their secrets and true intentions guarded and tucked away, pulling them out only when they need them to get something they want.

  “You just looked to the left,” I say.

  “What?”

  “You looked to the left when you said that,” I repeat. “Studies have shown if someone looks to the left while they speak, they’re lying.”

  He laughs.

  “It’s statistically proven,” I say. “Thoroughly researched. And you’re fidgeting.”

  I glance at his hands, watching the way his fingers flick around his low waistband.

  “And you keep repeating yourself,” I say. “The more you say you don’t want to fuck me, the more I know you’re lying. Because who are you trying to convince, Titan?”

  My lips curl into a satisfied smile.

  “Of course I want to fuck you,” he says, shifting his weight to his other foot. “But it doesn’t mean I’m going to.”

  “It’s not like you had the chance anyway.” I reach behind him, for the doorknob. I’m ready to go. I’m done with this shit show and his twisted little mind games. It was idiotic of me to come here.

  His hand covers mine.

  “For someone who doesn’t want me around, you sure are hell bent on making me stay.” I leave my hand under his, but it’s not like I have a choice. He’s presence alone is powerful enough to make my knees lock in place.

  “Just want to set a few things straight.” His voice is calm, steady.

  I lift my eyes to his. “What’s that?”

  “You’re sexy as fuck,” he says. “There’s no denying that.”

  I swallow the ball of tension that rises in my throat.

  “But don’t come back here,” he says. “Don’t…associate with me. Don’t drag yourself into something you have no business dragging yourself into.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “People like you,” he says, “who think they can change the world…the world needs that. You hang around me too long and you’ll get swept into something you’ll never get out of.”

  “You act like you’re a bad person,” I huff. “I know you’re not a bad person. What you did, Titan, was heroic. Even if the judicial system doesn’t see it that way.”

  “There’s nothing heroic about me. Don’t go making me into something I’m not just to suit your ideals. I’m just a man who did what he had to do.” He backs away, his hand dragging from mine. “I’ll always do what I have to do, Jordana. And that’s why I can’t fuck you again. Now, go. Before we do something we’ll both regret.”

  My face warms. I’m humiliated. Coming here under fals
e pretenses and letting him see right through me despite my best efforts isn’t the best decision I’ve ever made.

  I jerk the door open and vow again to let my emotions get the best of me. I don’t want to feel like this again.

  Foolish.

  Unwanted.

  CHAPTER TWELVE – TITAN

  I’m surprised she didn’t notice the growing bulge beneath my sweats, but she’s gone now. It’s for the best anyway. I could’ve buried my cock deep inside her all night, but I’m a man riddled with past mistakes, weighed down by the choices of my past. There’s no room for new ones.

  I’m moving on.

  Clean slate.

  Focused on myself and whatever lies ahead.

  I’d sooner trek across the street and pick up some drunk chick from Hammerhead than rope Jordana into being involved with me.

  And it’s not just her. I’m cutting ties with my father, and if he marries Laticia, they’re all a package deal.

  I pull a beer from the fridge, my fourth for the night. The terms of my parole state that I’m not supposed to be drinking, but I’m going to go ahead and assume my PO won’t be stopping by unannounced tonight. A quick pull of the tab before I plop down in a chair by the window precedes another night of people watching.

  Outside I spot Jordana marching to her car, and I swear I see her wipe away a tear. For some reason, she fucking cares about me. Makes no sense. She’s a smart girl. She knows better than to get involved with me.

  It’s that damn reverse psychology.

  Every fucking time.

  She thinks I don’t like her; therefore she wants me to like her.

  I sigh, leaning against the uncomfortable back of my wooden chair.

  What is it with women taking everything so goddamned personal all the time? It’s not about her. Shit. I don’t think I could name a single person I like right now. I kind of like KJ. And that’s a huge kind of. Mostly I feel sorry for him. Can’t imagine growing up as the younger brother of Kyle Rasmussen.

  Jordana fidgets with her door handle below. A group of three rough-looking assholes stands out in front of the Hammerhead sucking on cigarettes and watching her like hyenas stalking a gazelle.

  I see one of them nudge another and point to her. The third one nods his head and flicks his cigarette before grinding it into the pavement.

  Those drunk bastards are going to mess with her.

  Not on my watch.

  I rise, flinging my chair back and flying down the stairs until I get to her car.

  “What now?” Her eyes roll when she sees me.

  “Why are you still here?” I ask.

  “I locked my keys in my car,” she says. “The battery in my fob is dead, otherwise it wouldn’t have happened.”

  “Where’s your spare set?” I glance over her shoulder. The men are watching, though two are starting to move closer to the front door of the bar. A third man seems unfazed by my presence, like a fucking jackass.

  “At home. Obviously.”

  The two men disappear inside. The third jams his hands in his pockets and faces us. Even in the dark, I see it on him. That menacing determination. He staked her as his, even from across the street, and he doesn’t appreciate the unexpected cock-blocking.

  He hesitates for a brief second before glancing both ways across the street and heading toward us.

  “You realize you were being watched the whole time, right?” I ask.

  “Psh. Yeah. By you,” she huffs.

  “No,” I say. “Three assholes by the bar were staking you out. You shouldn’t be here. This is why you need to stay away from this part of town,” I say.

  “Oh, now you care about me all of a sudden?”

  “Excuse me,” the man says, leaning against the trunk of Jordana’s car. “Darlin’, is this man bothering you?”

  He tries to play it like he’s some good samaritan sent to protect her. I know better. I see it in his eyes.

  Jordana whips around, her dark hair falling down her shoulders. She must see it too, because the second they lock eyes she takes a step toward me.

  “Y-yeah,” she stammers. “He’s a friend of mine. We’re good.”

  I slip my arm around her shoulder and pull her against my chest. The last thing I need is trouble over a woman sending me right back behind bars, but I’ll be damned if I throw Mary-fucking-Sunshine here to the wolves.

  The ass wipe looks us up and down before swaying and turning back toward the bar.

  Easy enough.

  “You better come upstairs,” I say. “Call your mom to bring your keys and wait upstairs. You’re not safe down here.”

  We head up, taking the walk in silence. By the time we’re back in my apartment, she takes a seat on the edge of the bed and pulls her phone out. Her fingers tremble as she dials.

  “You scared?” I ask.

  She says nothing, though her eyes say it all.

  I almost feel bad for her. She wants to make a difference in the world, but she has to remember she’s not invincible. You don’t get a free pass from the bad shit just because you’re doing good shit.

  “She didn’t answer.” Jordana’s phone falls to her lap. “It’s late. She’s probably asleep.”

  Judging by the sheer volume of wine I’ve seen her mom put down, she’s probably out cold.

  I don’t even suggest that she calls my father. He won’t answer, and if he does, he’ll berate her for being so irresponsible. Or shit. That’s what he’d do to me. He’d probably go easier on Jordana.

  “I’d take you, but…” I point to the half-empty can of Coors Light resting on my table by the window. “Not trying to pick up an OWI.”

  “No, no.” She waves her hand. “I wouldn’t ask that of you. Let me just make some more calls.”

  I plop down in my chair, sitting back and idly sipping this watered down shit water while she makes calls and sends text.

  Ten minutes later, I can’t fucking stand the sound of my own thoughts anymore.

  “Not getting anywhere?” I ask.

  She shakes her head, as if the answer would upset me. “Sorry. I’ve tried everyone I know. Most of my friends are back on campus.”

  Fuck me.

  I reposition myself, unable to get comfortable. “Shit, Jordana. Looks like you’re staying here tonight.”

  She turns to look at the bed, which happens to be a full size. Barely bigger than a twin.

  “Gonna be close quarters tonight.” I take a final swig of my beer and crumple the can.

  She says nothing.

  “Why’re you hesitating?” I laugh. “You act like you got a choice in the matter.”

  I’ll be the first to admit it’s going to be hard lying next to her and not wanting to slip a hand under her shirt. It’ll be challenging lying there and pretending like I’m not imagining how good her pussy would feel clenched against my cock.

  “I’ll sleep on the floor if it makes you feel better,” I say. The floor couldn’t possibly be much more uncomfortable than that lumpy mattress.

  “We’re adults,” she says, pulling in a long breath. “We’ll make it work.”

  I rise, rifling through one of the plastic sacks in the corner that hold my entire wardrobe, and toss a plain white t-shirt at her.

  “Pajamas,” I say. “Unless you intend on sleeping in jeans.”

  She clutches the shirt against her chest and heads to the bathroom to change, which is cute because she acts like I’ve never seen every inch of her sinfully addictive body before.

  By the time she emerges, I’m under the covers, taking up the vast majority of my side of the bed.

  She lingers at the foot, eyeing the flat pillow next to me.

  “Going to be all shy now?” I ask.

  Jordana releases a breath and takes a step closer, followed by another, until she reaches for the covers and climbs beneath them.

  Shit. She’s not shy. She’s scared.

  Scared she won’t be able to control herself next to me.

&n
bsp; The one window is wide open, blowing a chilly evening breeze into the room. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to sleep with the window open. It’s a luxury I never thought I’d miss until it was gone. I don’t care if it’s forty degrees out, I’m sleeping with that damn window open.

  Jordana rolls to her side, away from me, and I hear a shiver in her breath as she breaths. She tugs the blanket up to her shoulders and curls herself into a ball as best she can given the limited space she has.

  “You cold?” I ask.

  “It’s okay,” she shoots back.

  I don’t have any extra blankets. All I have are two options: either I shut the window and get no sleep or I pull her close and keep her warm.

  I need my fucking sleep.

  My hand hooks around her waist, and I pull her against me.

  “Hey.” She scrambles but doesn’t completely fight it. I slip my arm under hers, pressing her body against me. Our bodies form together like two pieces of a puzzle. It’d be cute – if I were into that sort of shit.

  Her shivering subsides a couple minutes later, though even in the dark I see her blink. She’s wide awake.

  “You gotta get some sleep,” I groan. “Shut your eyes.”

  “I can’t sleep,” she says, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t sleep well in unfamiliar places.”

  “Pretend I’m your fucking teddy bear, princess,” I chuckle. My forearm accidentally grazes her left tit and I leave it anyway.

  “Smooth.” She totally noticed.

  “Just keeping you warm.”

  “Mm, hm.” I detect a hint of a smile in her tone.

  I yank my arm away, but she pulls it back.

  “You’re keeping me warm. I need you to stay still,” I say.

  Her ass wiggles against me as she settles and situates under the covers, so naturally my cock grows and presses into her ass. Given our tight space, she was bound to feel it sooner or later.

  “Nice, Titan.” She pretends she’s upset. I know better.

  “Can’t help it.” I say. “What’s that shit you were saying earlier? Men are programmed differently?”