PAYBACK (A Bad Boy Romance)

by Alexx Andria

  “I don't want to shower.”

  “Too bad.”

  I glared.

  He was unbelievably bossy. I grimaced as something dribbled down my thigh, hating that he was right; a shower was needed.

  He pulled me from the bed and straight to his mouth. I could smell my own musk on his lips and I hated the thrill that arced through my veins.

  There was something inherently sexy about the way they smelled together.

  I’d always been an odd duck about those things. I had a thing with smells.

  And although it didn’t make any sense, I liked the way Jameson smelled.

  Especially now.

  Too bad he was the devil.

  His hand found my bare flesh and he slowly rubbed the slick moisture from his seed all over my mound. I was both horrified and fascinated at the same time.

  Was this normal?

  Nothing about our situation could be deemed normal by any means.

  “You see this? This is mine and always will be,” he told me, causing a shiver to dance down my spine. “No matter where you go, or who you're with...this will forever be mine because I was first.”

  And I knew in that moment, he was right.

  It didn't matter who I ended up with in the future, I would always carry the mental mark of Jameson Reed's touch.

  I wanted to hate that.

  But there was a part of me that went breathless and weak in the knee at the knowledge — and that made me want to scream.

  “You're wrong,” I lied. “As soon as I leave this place, I'll forget all about you.”

  My taunt did nothing but make him laugh.

  “We'll see about that,” he said, finding my clit and slowly caressing the tiny pleasure spot.

  I gasped as he pushed his finger inside me, his finger going easily thanks to the fact his seed was still dribbling down my thigh.

  “You want to know what I think? I think you know that there's something between us that defies explanation, something that will always pulse with need and want and that scares the shit out of you.”

  Maybe he was right but I’d go to my grave before admitting it.

  I forced a small smile. “You can think what you want; it's a free country.”

  Jameson laughed at my ballsy quip and withdrew his finger with deliberate care then shocked me when he pushed that finger into my own mouth.

  I shocked myself when I licked it clean.

  “You're more than you seem,” he said, his dark eyes gleaming. “More than the good girl. Deep down beats the heart of a bad girl.”

  He laughed at my consternation and kissed me again, this time quickly and without fanfare.

  “C’mon, time to rinse off so we can get dirty all over again.”

  I hesitated but I didn’t have much choice. Jameson wasn’t the type to take no for an answer and shuttled me off to the bathroom to do as he’d instructed.

  The water sluiced over our bodies, raining softly from the surprisingly expensive showerhead, reminding me of the tropical rain I saw in movies and imagined from books.

  Truth was, I’d never been to the tropics of any sort.

  Between bailing out my brother and trying to keep a roof over my head, there wasn't a lot left over to toss around.

  I gasped as Jameson ran the soap over my body, paying particular attention to the hard, jutting peaks of my breasts as he washed away the evidence of his seed from between my legs and beyond.

  I felt removed from the situation and yet strangely steeped in sensual awareness.

  Ridiculous — I knew I couldn't experience both — but somehow…I was.

  “You're body is exquisite,” he murmured, his big hands spanning my waist and dipping between my legs. “How is it that no one has managed to pluck that cherry?”

  “I told you, I was waiting for someone special,” I said with a sigh, losing my ability to remain rigid and removed from his touch.

  Jameson did wicked things to my resolve and it wasn't fair.

  “When did you become a crooked cop?”

  Jameson pulled away, his gaze narrowing. “Watch it.”

  “Truth hurts?”

  He grabbed the showerhead and pulled it free from the clip, rinsing the soap away. "You didn't have to say yes...probably would've been better if you'd told me to go fuck myself."

  "You had me over a barrel and you know it."

  "Maybe I saw an opportunity to force you to see that your brother is a worthless piece of trash. You know what the sad thing is? You're doing all the sacrificing and yet, your brother is happy to just take and take, giving nothing back. My guess is if he knew what you'd done for him...he'd mumble something about kicking my ass but secretly he'll think he's got something new to leverage with in his low-life circles."

  "That's bullshit," I said, stung, but the worst part? I worried Jameson was right and that fear pierced my heart.

  "Go ahead lie to yourself, tell yourself he's the kid you used to know. Doesn't change reality." He shrugged and replaced the showerhead. "Fuck it, who cares. You can believe what you want. None of my business."

  "That's right...it's not."

  Jameson smirked and placed his big body in front of the spray. "You're too fucking hot for your own good, you know that?"

  I stifled a shudder of awareness. Why did he affect me like this?

  I wanted to dredge up revulsion and hatred for what he'd forced me to do but there was something so primal, so raw about Jameson that I was drawn against my better judgment.

  I started to speak but Jameson wasn't in the mood to listen.

  Instead, he simply claimed my mouth and filled his hands with my breasts, pushing me against the shower wall, his cock thick and ready, pressing against my belly.

  Thank God, I was on the pill.

  Even though I’d been saving myself, the pill had helped ease my menstrual cycle when the cramps had become unbearable.

  Still, even if pregnancy wasn't a worry…I pushed at him desperately and he stopped with a question in his gaze.

  “I’m on the pill because of my periods but what about STDs? Are you clean?”

  “I am. Clean bill of health. I get checked every three months.” He hesitated and then admitted, “I’ve always worn condoms. Except with you.”

  A tiny thrill tickled my stomach. "Why? What's so special about me?"

  Jameson’s hesitation said as much as the hunger in his dark eyes. Maybe he didn’t know the answer but he didn’t want to push for one either.

  Neither of us wanted to acknowledge that something pulsed between us.

  Something out of our control.

  “I like being inside you,” he finally said, jerking me to him as if I belonged in his arms. There was something so possessive about his touch that I couldn’t help but soften against him.

  Even as his grip was firm, his tongue darted with slow, languid strokes against mine and I melted.

  He was an enigma.

  Brutal and unyielding in one breath; giving and generous in the next.

  Before long I was clinging to him, hoisted onto his hips.

  His cock ground against my feminine core and I wiggled with insistent, greedy thrusts, hungry for that thick rod to split me once again.

  He parted my seam and pushed himself inside, grunting with the effort as he sank into my willing heat.

  Impaled on that engorged length, I forgot my hatred, forgot my earlier revulsion and simply moaned with abject pleasure as he slammed me against the wall, knocking down shampoo and other toiletries.

  "I could fuck you all day," he said with a tight groan as he buried himself deeper, pushing his length into my body as far as he could go.

  We were practically one, he was lost so deep.

  And oh, God, I loved it.

  Heaven help me to my utter shame…I was greedy for more.

  Jameson

  Exhausted and ravenous, I walked on unsteady feet out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

  We’d fucked slow and hard i
n the shower and then once more on the bed.

  I was dehydrated as fuck and if I didn't get some fluid, I’d collapse.

  I tossed a bottled water to Ivy and guzzled one of my own.

  She wore one of my shirts, an old metal rock tee, a throw-back from my misguided youth.

  And damn, it looked fucking hot on her.

  But then, she'd probably look pretty damn good in a garbage sack.

  “You hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  “Good.”

  I grabbed a package of steaks from the fridge and a pan.

  While I made quick work of frying up the steaks, she hopped up on the counter to watch.

  Her blond hair, tumbling down her back, still damp from the shower, made wet spots right where her tits were.

  It took great restraint not to lift her shirt and suck on her nipples like a baby needing milk.

  “You can cook.”

  I nodded. "A man should be able to do two things in this world; cook and fuck. The rest will fall into place."

  She bit her lip. "Pretty simple philosophy."

  "I'm a simple guy."

  "You're anything but simple. I've figured that much out."

  Her observation struck a chord but I hid it well.

  I was a loner, which was why I was a good deep cover cop. I didn't form attachments and I excelled at making superficial connections with dirtbags.

  Maybe because my own childhood had been an excellent training ground.

  "How do you like your meat?"

  "Medium rare."

  "Smart girl."

  I served up the steaks and buttered two slices of thick French bread. “Grub’s on“

  But before I allowed her to take her plate, I wanted a kiss.

  She met my gaze and I saw strength of will staring back at me.

  It was sexy as hell. She could've told me to fuck off, that she'd given me enough.

  But she didn't.

  She kissed me.

  Hard.

  On her terms.

  And I nearly busted a nut right there in my kitchen.

  She broke the kiss first. I could’ve kissed her for much longer.

  The balance of power felt tilted. As if everything had just tipped on its axis and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  I gave my power to no one.

  I took a bite of steak and grunted with satisfaction. I was weak as a kitten and I need to power up.

  But I wanted to talk to her, too. She intrigued me. Against my better judgment (why start using good sense now?) I pressed her for details.

  “Before you get your panties twisted…don’t take this the wrong way. Why are you doing all this for your brother? You have to know that he’s not going to appreciate whatever you do for him.”

  I was trespassing on personal ground but I didn’t care. It made me prickly that Ivy was so loyal to such a shitbag such as Frankie.

  She deserved better — and yes, I recognized the irony of that statement coming from me.

  I expected a ‘fuck off’ glare but she surprised me with an answer. ”Frankie didn't always used to be this way. He used to be my big brother, always looking out for me like a big brother should."

  "Drugs will turn a person inside out and backwards; he's not the brother you used to know. Not anymore."

  She met my gaze with unflinching strength.

  As it turned out, I wasn't the only one with questions this night.

  "Tell me why you leveraged your career for one night of sex."

  I shrugged, uncomfortable. I’d been asking myself the same damn question since I stepped off that cliff. "Too long in deep cover, I guess,” I admitted around a hot bite.

  "How long were you in?"

  "Six months."

  "Just to take down my brother?"

  "Naww, your brother is small-time. I wanted the distributor."

  "Did you get him?"

  "No."

  “Are you going to keep trying?”

  “Probably,” I answered bluntly.

  “I know Frankie deals with dangerous people. On more than one occasion he’s told me to stop asking questions. He said it was too dangerous for me to be caught snooping around.”

  “He’s right. The people he works for don’t mess around. You ought to follow his advice and steer clear. Better yet, lose Frankie, too. He’s going to bring you down.”

  "Are you going to keep coming after Frankie?" she asked.

  I wasn’t going to lie. “Unless he proves useful in some other way.”

  "What if he's trying to change?"

  "He won't."

  She frowned. "He might."

  "And unicorns might fly out my ass when I fart."

  "That's gross."

  "And just as improbable. Your brother, like any fart can be, is toxic and likely to smell up the place just by popping out. Do yourself a favor and cut bait. That piece of shit is going to ruin you."

  "Funny advice coming from the man who propositioned me to get what he wanted."

  I didn’t care if I sounded like a hypocrite. "It is, what it is, baby girl."

  Ivy made a sound of disgust, irritated. “Spare me your patronizing hypocrisy and leave my brother out of things.”

  I jerked a nod, agreeing but there was an edge to my gaze as I pulled her roughly onto my lap. "Good reminder that we're not going to ride off into the sunset together. You're a hot piece of ass and I'm going to enjoy every second of fucking you but once you step over that threshold, you're on your own."

  "Good. As if I would chase after you for a date or something," she said hotly, blinking back tears.

  I wiped away the tiny tear that’d escaped. "Glad we got that out of the way," I murmured, reaching beneath her shirt to squeeze her breasts. "You know, you have the best tits I've ever seen. Like a porn star’s only real.”

  "Charming." She glared, removing my hands as she climbed from my lap. "On that note...I think I'll say goodbye."

  "Keep the shirt," I said, surprising her.

  She hesitated and glanced down at the faded rock tee. I half expected her to throw it at me but she nodded and gathered her things.

  I hated watching her leave but a part of me was relieved.

  There was some confusing shit going on in my head.

  I was thinking like a chick.

  Needy.

  Wanting.

  If I listened to the insistent voice in my head, I would be tying her to my bed so I could fuck her a half dozen more times but that was crazy talk.

  Hell, at this point, the poor girl probably was sore as fuck.

  I’d definitely ridden that virgin pussy hard.

  I walked her to the door, lazily leaning against the doorjamb.

  “You'll hold up your end of the bargain?" she asked, holding me to the deal.

  I nodded. One thing I didn’t do was break my word. Unless it was to dirtbags. Then, I could give a shit.

  She released a shaky breath. "Good. I guess that's it, then. I don't suppose we'll ever see each other again."

  “You never know.”

  But just as her hand reached for the door handle, I pulled her into my arms, sealing my mouth to hers in a kiss that stole her breath, reminded her that something wild throbbed between us — something dangerous — and it was all I could do to turn her loose.

  Our kiss, deep and commanding, was everything a kiss between lovers should be.

  Tender.

  Ravenous.

  Insatiable.

  In an instant, I was teased with the drugging desire to feel her just one more time, a traitorous voice begged — but I shut it down with ruthless force even as I broke the kiss and released her.

  Her lips, glistening from my kiss, trembled as she said, “Don't forget our deal."

  A small smirk lifted the corners of my lips.

  “Stay sweet, baby girl."

  Never look back, Ivy.

  And then she was gone.

  I watched as her taillights disappeared fr
om the quiet neighborhood, the early morning still dark as pitch.

  This was the time when the criminals came out to play.

  When people were supposed to be sleeping.

  I exhaled, shoving my hands in my jean pockets, still not quite sure what was happening to me.

  Ivy Callen.

  I wanted her back already.

  Maybe it was time to dig a little deeper into the Callen family history…see what I could find to put away her shitbag brother for good.

  One thing was for sure, I wasn’t going to let anything happen to Ivy.

  Even if she didn’t want my help.

  She was going to get it.

  Jameson

  I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  By her, I meant Ivy.

  There was something about her that refused to leave my brain. I dreamed about her skin, the way she moaned, the scent of her sweet pussy.

  I’ve never been the kind to fixate on any woman.

  I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m more comfortable with the soulless encounters that are more about getting off and letting out steam than anything emotional or deep.

  But Ivy…was under my skin.

  It’d been days since she’d been in my bed, beneath me, but I was thinking of nothing else.

  I didn’t even notice the general din of the precinct, which usually drove me fucking batty after months of intense undercover work because my head was so preoccupied.

  I didn’t know what was going on with me but I knew it wasn’t good.

  My partner, Hank Grogan, dropped into the chair next to mine and stared me down.

  “What’s your deal? You coming down with the flu or something?” he asked.

  I scowled. “No. Why?”

  “Because your head is somewhere else when it should be on our fucked up case.”

  Ah, that. Yeah, my thoughts should be on that problem.

  Maybe that was why I was focused on Ivy because if I was too busy thinking about her, I couldn’t obsess about how we’d ended up with absolute nothing after a six month under cover stint.

  “Captain’s chewing nails on this one,” Hank said, stating what I already knew. “We shouldn’t have busted Frankie Callen early.”

  “It was all we had,” I growled, irritated that it was my decision to pull the trigger on Frankie and it’d backfired. “I thought Frankie would lead us to the person in charge.”