Rough Ride: A Small Town Bad Boy Romance

by Cass Kincaid

  “The Point.”

  That catches my attention, and I whirl around to face her. “What? Why the hell are we going there?” I hadn’t been to The Point in years. Its actual name is Barlow’s Lookout, but teenagers have always used it as a place to go to make out, smoke up, and do all the things that parents warned them against. It happens to hold a little more significance for me than just a make-out spot, however.

  “You’ll see.”

  I’m silent as Emily drives beyond the town limit and turns onto Barlow Road, a winding, gravel road with a steep uphill slope. It may have been years since I was out here, but the path that leads to that spot hasn’t changed a bit, and it’s conjuring up ghosts of memories that are better left buried.

  She turns the car into the clearing at the top of the hill. It’s wide open, just as it’s always been, and the lights on the water tower on the other side of town seem to cascade out over the town’s expanse. Only two other cars are parked there, and one’s not actually a car at all. It’s a truck.

  A familiar truck.

  “Emily, turn the car around.”

  “Not a fucking chance, Izzy.” She parks her car away from the other two vehicles—it’s customary to try to give other attendees of The Point as much privacy as possible. “Sorry, but this is for your own good.”

  My mind is spinning, a confusing mix of anger and shock that she’d do such a thing. “Tell me you didn’t just bring me here because he asked you to.” I’m glaring at her with every ounce of fury I can muster, but it doesn’t begin to express the turmoil rolling inside me.

  She kills the ignition, and the resulting silence is deafening. “I told you, there’s something you need to know.”

  “Then fucking tell me, Em.”

  She shakes her head. “I didn’t say you were going to hear it from me,” she says apologetically. “Now, put your big girl panties on and get out of the car.”

  “Emily—”

  “I know, I know. You should hate me, blah blah blah. But you won’t.” She reaches across in front of me, first unbuckling my seatbelt, then pushing the car door open. “You’ll thank me. Go.”

  I feel like I should argue with her, tell her this was underhanded and uncalled for. But I make the mistake of glancing out the window, and I can see Jace standing there, hands in his pockets, about fifteen feet from the car. He’s waiting for me, and he looks nervous.

  Good, I’m glad I’m not the only one. Because I know that Emily would’ve never agreed to deceive me like this if that something I’m about to find out isn’t big. “Son of a bitch,” I breathe out as I clamber out of the vehicle.

  “Love you, too,” Emily calls out right before I slam the door.

  She’s started the car and is peeling out of that clearing before I even have time to register the way Jace’s eyes are set firmly on me.

  “Remind me to rip her a new one for this later,” I say. I’m trying for a dash of humor, but the shakiness of my voice betrays me. I clear my throat and shove my hands into my denim jacket pockets, matching Jace’s stance. “Tell me why I’m here.”

  “I can do better than that, Izzy,” he says gently. “I can show you.”

  “I’m getting really tired of hearing that.”

  A glint of confusion shadows his features, but Jace doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he chooses to pull his phone from his pocket.

  My first inclination is to notice how banged up the damn thing is, with its screen cracked and the case held together by a strip of duct tape, but the fact that he holds it out to me prevents me from commenting on its state of disrepair. “I don’t want your phone, Jace.”

  “Yes, you do.” His arm stays extended, the phone held out toward me. “Take it. I need you to see something.”

  I pause, hesitant, but I reach out and take it from him, careful not to let our fingers touch.

  “The passcode to unlock it is 0107.”

  Immediately, I know those are the numbers of my birthday, the seventh of January, but I don’t say it out loud. I’m too engrossed in whatever’s about to happen. I can feel the weight of it, thick between us. I punch in the digits and the screen lights up.

  “Go into my text messages,” Jace instructs. “Scroll all the way to the bottom. You’ll see your name there.”

  Why the hell would my name be there? That’s my first thought. The second is that he was obviously sick and twisted enough to keep the damn message he sent me. A new wave of molten fury floods my insides, but I do as he says, scrolling to the bottom of the text messaging screen. Sure enough, my name is at the very bottom—the oldest messaging conversation in the list. I click it, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to snap at him, asking him why the hell he’s doing this, bringing all this hurt and pain back to the surface.

  Then, I realize something. The last message in the conversation isn’t the one I think it is. I know I never responded to Jace’s last text message to me, the cruel one that ended everything between us.

  Except, that’s not the last message he sent me.

  The message that’s haunted me for three goddamn years is there, and it hurts just as much as the first time I read those words on my own phone screen. You deserve better than the life I can give you, Izzy…

  But another message shows up after it. And I plan on building you the one you deserve. Please wait for me. I love you.

  According to the time stamp on it, it was sent the same day as the previous one. I can’t breathe as I press my thumb against the screen and hold it there in order to view the message details. All the air is gone from my lungs, and my throat has constricted so tightly I’m afraid I might suffocate from my own sense of disbelief.

  Both messages were sent within a minute of each other.

  But I never received the second one.

  My head snaps up, and I gaze at Jace with widened eyes as the realization begins to sink in. “You...didn’t break up with me.”

  “And you didn’t wait for me.” There’s no malice in his tone, only resignation as he offers me a sad smile.

  The pain behind it breaks my heart, when I thought it couldn’t be shattered any more. “I didn’t get this message,” I explain feebly, holding the phone out as though it’s proof.

  “I realized that this morning,” Jace states. “Far too late, obviously. All this time, I thought you broke up with me. Decided waiting for me wasn’t what you wanted. Yet, the entire time, you—”

  “Thought you broke up with me,” I finish for him. “Over a fucking text message.” I sound defeated, and that’s exactly how I feel.

  “I never would have done that to you, Izzy.” Jace takes a step forward, his eyes firmly set on me. “And if I had ever been stupid enough to break up with you, I’d never have done it over a text message.”

  My mind is whirling with so many thoughts, so many questions, I’m not sure which to ask first. “All this time,” I breathe out. “Lost. Purely because I—”

  “Turned your phone off and changed the number the next day.” Jace smiles again. “Emily told me she was with you when you got the first text. I know how much it hurt you to think I...did that.”

  There’s pain in his voice, and I feel guilt slice through me, knowing my actions are the cause of it. “Emily told you everything, then.” It’s not a question. I can see the truth on his face. His jaw is tight, and his eyes are shadowed. He knows.

  Jace just nods. “She told me you...retaliated. With Chad.”

  The blood drains from my face. Seeing him look so pained, and sound so lost—it’s killing me. “It was a stupid, drunken night about a week after I got your message,” I explain. “One drunken night that somehow led to eight months of pretending to be more than we were.”

  “You ended up dating him.” Jace shrugs, his hands still in his pockets. “There’s no shame or blame in that, Izzy. You thought we were over. Hell, I dated the PBR’s public relations advisor for a while, too, but…”

  Jace trails off, and it’s my turn to chuckle sadly. �
�But it’s like wine after whisky.”

  A crooked grin forms on his mouth. “Exactly like wine after whisky.”

  I swallow down the lump in my throat, holding his phone out to him. “Jace, I swear—”

  He reaches out for the phone, bypassing it completely and grabbing onto my wrist, tugging me against him. His mouth finds mine without consciously having to seek it out. The connection between us, the tangible pull; we’d be able to find each other in absolute darkness. The warmth of his tongue against mine sends a shiver of hunger straight to my core, and I kiss him back with just as much intensity and promise as he offers me.

  “I thought the distance and the time away from here had become too much for you to handle,” he whispers when he pulls away, his forehead pressed against mine as his fingers cup the side of my face. “I’ve always ended every conversation with the truest words I know, Izzy—I love you. Remember?”

  I nod against him, feeling the heat of tears welling up in my eyes. So much emotion was pouring out of me, and the closeness of him after so long of being away from the familiarity of his tender kind of touch is only exacerbating the tsunami erupting within me. “I know.” My voice is hoarse, and it cracks under the weight of the tears that spill onto my cheeks. “I should’ve never—”

  “Shh.” Jace’s fingertip comes up to rest against my lips. “No more apologies, and no more regrets, Izzy. There’s just one thing, okay?”

  I sniff as he wipes a stray tear from my cheek. “And what’s that?”

  The corner of his mouth quirks upward, and he leans forward, kissing me softly. “The most important thing,” he says, as though reminding me. “I love you, Izzy.”

  Three years I’ve waited for the sound of those words on this man’s lips. Over one thousand days. Except, I didn’t know I’d been waiting. Too much hurt and pride and anguish shrouded my heart to realize it. Now, the words mean more than they ever have before. Because the path he took to get here, to be with me, to say those words, is winding and confusing.

  But it has led Jace here, despite everything. Back to me.

  I smile against his mouth as I kiss him again, tucking myself into him as close as I can. “I love you, too,” I whisper. “And I’ll never let you forget it.”

  “Oh, I won’t forget,” he promises. “Just like I won’t ever forget our nights out here.” He doesn’t pull away, but turns to look out over the bluff. The town lights twinkled and blinked, as though answering back. As though they remember just as much as he does. “Remember, Izzy?”

  Mischief comes alight in my eyes, and I smirk knowingly. “If this old clearing could talk…”

  “Let’s be thankful it can’t.”

  “How come?” I tease. “Don’t want it to tell everyone about the mix of silky promises and dirty words you spewed?”

  “I don’t give a damn what they heard, Izzy,” he whispers. “It’s what they saw. Back seat of my truck, front seat of my truck…Christ, the bed of my truck…”

  I stifle a soft laugh, then kiss him softly, nipping at his bottom lip suggestively. “I’m not sure I remember what you’re referring to,” I whisper softly. “Maybe you should remind me.”

  “I can’t do better than that,” he assures me, tugging me towards his truck by both hands. “I can show you.”

  Chapter Eight

  Jace

  Four months later...

  “Izzy.” My voice was soft and soothing. “Izzy, wake up.” I pulled the sheets down just enough to slip my hand beneath them, letting my fingertips caress over the soft swell of her hip, across her lower abdomen.

  “Izzy…” I say again, this time in a more taunting tone. She’s laying on her side, away from me. My fingers find their mark, moving through the soft hair at the apex of her thighs. The heat I can feel emanating from her is enough to make my cock twitch suggestively against her back.

  Being naked with Izzy in her bed is something I never thought I’d experience again. Needless to say, every chance I get—hell, every chance we both get—we’re hidden away inside this decrepit old house Izzy rents, sharing more private, sensual touches and whispers than I have any right to deserve.

  Pride, on both our parts, almost destroyed us indefinitely. We have a lot of time to make up for.

  I roll my hips forward, pressing my erection into her back as I dip one finger between her soft folds. A soft gasp comes from Izzy’s lips, and I watch as her eyes flutter.

  “Jace…” It’s the faintest sound, but it’s coupled with her legs opening slightly, giving me more access.

  I stifle a gutteral groan of my own as the sight of her sleepy form and the sensation of her damp warmth on my fingers consumes me. I slide my finger over her clit, finding my way inside. Jesus, she’s so wet, yet barely awake.

  “Oh, Izzy…” I breathe against her skin. It’s so fucking hard to control myself around her. My mouth is on her shoulder without conscious thought, kissing and sucking and licking a trail up to her throat, where I can feel her pulse speeding up.

  She moans again, eyes still closed. Her hips rock slightly against my hand, easing my finger further inside her. I begin to move within her, in and out, slowly at first. I can see Izzy’s hand slide under the cover to the edge of the bed. The realization that she’s gripping it only encourages me.

  I withdraw my finger, painstakingly slow, relishing in the soft whimpers Izzy emits. Her clit has my attention now, and she arches her back against my cock. Another groan falls from my lips, sounding more like a growl, a sign of weakness.

  “You’re so wet,” I whisper against her ear. “I want you to come for me.” I tease her relentlessly, flicking and rubbing with the pad of my finger until I see Izzy’s eyes clamp shut.

  “Not...yet,” she pleads.

  I know what she wants, and my mouth quirks up at the sound of her begging me for it. She wants my cock buried deep within her, pounding her until she screams my name in desperation as her body shatters beneath me.

  Hell, I want that, too. She’s insatiable. And fucking gorgeous. But I like having a little control over her, giving her what she needs on my own terms. And, right now, all I want is to make her come hard from my touch.

  I swing one leg over hers to hold her in place. “I said I want you to come for me.” My breath is hot and damp against the side of her face, and the sheets are bunched up where her hand is clutching the side of the mattress. “Come, Izzy,” I command her. “Come hard.”

  My finger is rubbing wildly against her now, and only labored, desperate panting is coming from Izzy’s mouth. That’s fine, because I don’t need her words. Her body is telling me everything I need to know. I can feel the muscles in her legs and back tightening as she tries desperately to ward off her impending climax.

  “I want you…” she pleads on a sigh.

  “Not...until...you come.” I suddenly stop my sensual assault on her clit, making Izzy’s eyes snap open and a gasp pass her lips. Her slick wetness makes it easy to plunge two fingers inside her, and Izzy cries out at the intense sensation.

  “This is what you want?” I growl against the side of her face, thrusting my fingers in and out furiously. “You want me to fill you, baby? Push you over the edge?”

  “Yes,” she gasps desperately. “Oh, god, yes.”

  I can feel how tightly she’s clenched around my fingers. Izzy is close. I hold her in place, and I’m relentless as I stroke her, in and out, hard, fast. Every fiber of her being is taut and on the verge of losing control.

  “You feel amazing, Izzy,” I encourage. “Give in, baby.”

  “Oh, god, Jace—”

  Every muscle of her body, inside and out, constricts violently, her walls tightening around my fingers as she explodes beneath my touch. I don’t halt my movements until I’ve milked every last shudder and convulsion from her body.

  She’s breathing heavily, her body now limp and exhausted as I slide my fingers out slowly and gently, tugging her close to me. My arms envelop her, and I nuzzle my nose into her n
eck, grinning as she squeaks in response. I know her too well; every nerve ending in her sexy little body is still on high alert, and the slightest caress or tender touch still feels intense and erotic to her.

  “Good morning,” I whisper against her skin.

  “Good morning, yourself.” She lets out a dramatic sigh, sinking against my chest. “That’s quite the way to wake me up, you know.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a complaint,” I chuckle, planting soft kisses just below her ear.

  “Believe me, it’s not.” She wriggles slightly, purposely pressing her back against my evident hardness. “What about you? I’ve got a few ideas—”

  She’s already rolling over with mischievous intent in her eyes, but I grope for her wrists, holding her in place. “Not so fast,” I chuckle. “There’s time for that later.”

  “You always say that,” she whines. But she’s grinning like the Cheshire cat.

  “Izzy, there is rarely a time I’ve ever stopped you from putting your hands on me,” I remind her.

  “That’s not what I mean.” She rolls her eyes dramatically, like I’m the one misunderstanding this predicament. “I just mean that you always say that. That we have more time. Like you know for certain.”

  “That’s because I do.” I lean over, tackling her to playfully pin her underneath me. “I won’t ever lose you again. Time is on our side now.” I kiss her, hard, then mentally chastise myself for getting sucked in to another potential sexual escapade with her. “Damn it, Izzy, I can’t keep my hands off you.” I roll off her like the heat of her skin is scalding me, theatrically holding my hands up in the air as I stand. I’m naked before her, and very, very hard.

  Izzy’s got a lopsided grin on her face as she sits up, holding the sheets up to cover her chest. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

  “It is. Right now, anyway.” I turn my attention to the floor, looking for my jeans. “Especially since I have a surprise for you.”