The Goode Fight

by Seth King

  “What’s so funny?” I ask him.

  “I don’t know, you just look like someone I used to know, and it’s kind of throwing me off a little. And I’m also laughing at myself, because I…I just can’t really believe I came here.”

  I fiddle with my thumbnail. “Um, okay then…well, do you want to leave or something?”

  “No, no, no,” he says as he shakes his head, turning serious, “I just meant that I’m laughing at my stupidity for putting myself in front of such temptation, that’s all.”

  I look over at the unopened jar of Nutella on my counter and roll my eyes. Of course I forgot to put it away after I went grocery shopping today, out of all days.

  “Yeah,” I tell him, “I guess I left that out after I went to the store earlier, sorry about that. Nutella’s sort of its own food group around here.”

  He throws me a quizzical look. “Taylor, I’m not talking about the Nutella. I’m talking about you. You’re spellbinding.”

  After my lungs start functioning again I consider how sad it is that until thirty seconds ago, the most flattering thing any guy had ever said to me was “Hey Miss Fine Ass” on the beach in Key West during Spring Break two years ago.

  “Thanks, but you’re a bad liar,” I tell him. He tilts his head.

  “What do you mean?”

  I shrug and motion at the space between us. “I mean, come on, just look at us. You’re a Michelangelo, and I’m a first grader’s Play-Doh sculpture.”

  He crosses his arms. “Then I’m sad.”

  “Why?”

  “That you can’t see what I see.”

  I turn into my refrigerator to hide my blush. Operation: Get Stellan Into Bed needs to commence immediately. “Thanks, I guess. You’re not so bad yourself. Is Pinot Grigio okay for you?”

  “It’s great,” he says coolly as I take out the bottle and reach for some glasses with shaky hands. Ugh, why does it seem like I’ve completely forgotten how to pour wine in this boy’s presence? All I’m doing is carrying out the simple task of pouring liquid into glasses, but under his gaze my hands quiver and my vision blurs and my ears ring, and I end up spilling more than I get into the cups. When I finally finish I hand him the glass containing more wine, figuring that the tried-and-true method of getting him drunk could always help.

  “So, you go to Duke, too?” I ask after he takes a sip.

  “Yeah, I came here before I started my junior year. I’m a senior now.”

  “Oh, I figured you were grad. You seem so…old. But in a good way,” I add as I realize how rude that sounded. To get my foot out of my mouth I decide to get away from the age subject. “That seems like sort of a random time to transfer, though. What made you move?”

  For some reason he reaches up and bites his nail. “It’s…a long story,” he says evasively, and I make a mental note to Google that story as soon as he leaves. “But what about you? Do you have any roommates?”

  “Nope, it’s all mine,” I answer as I motion at my house.

  “Oh, I see,” he frowns. Why in the world would me living alone be a bad thing? I wonder. I bite my bottom lip and study him, starting to get fed up with all the mystery. I want to let this go, the questions racing around in my head, but impulse control has never been one of my strongpoints. I take a quick breath and stand taller.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay,” I begin, deciding to go with the biggest mystery first. “I was just wondering- why did you walk away from me when I first came up to you, if you were going to save me from that creeper like five minutes later?”

  It’s like a shield comes over his eyes immediately, protecting him. But from what, I haven’t the slightest clue.

  “I have my reasons. Why do you ask?”

  “Because I’m kind of having a hard time figuring you out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do I mean?” I repeat. “Well, first, you say you want to ‘fuck’ me, and then you walk away from me. Then, after you act repelled by me, you save me from some scary guy two seconds later. And after all that, you come in here and murmur one weird cryptic comment after another, leaving me totally clueless and confused. Not that I don’t appreciate what you did; I’m just kind of getting whiplash. What are you, exactly?”

  His eyes fall to the floor again. “Complicated.”

  I wrap my arms around my shoulders and realize my mother was right. I get that strange feeling again, that little voice telling me to be afraid. But I push it down, because despite Stellan’s obvious issues, I have never been more attracted to anyone in my life. I can’t ignore it anymore- my entire body is overcome with desire for him, and it’s like every detail about him was specifically designed to draw me in…and then drive me crazy.

  “You know, I’m starting to see that,” I say playfully, but he doesn’t respond. He’s shutting down again, closing himself off. I need to find another way into his mind – and his pants – but how?

  Suddenly the sparkle of the silver cross pendant hanging from his necklace catches my eye, reminding me of Cara’s comments about his religion. Maybe that’s it- to get through to him, maybe I’ll just have to use terms he would understand. Christian terms.

  I look around and spot a bag of Red Delicious apples on the counter that I haven’t put away yet, making a light go off in my head. I take a deep, calming breath, pull open the bag, take out an apple, and hold it in front of my mouth. Sure, things may not have worked out so well for the last girl who’d pulled this trick, but after all, I’m giving this apple to Stellan, not Adam, I note with a dark smile.

  “You know, this apple looks pretty good, doesn’t it?” I ask. Stellan rocks back on his heels, suddenly nervous.

  “Yes, it does.”

  I hold it out for him. “So taste it, then.”

  Understanding dawns in his eyes. He licks his bottom lip slowly, making every molecule in me fill with need. For a second I almost think I’ve seduced him that easily, but he shakes his head and fights it.

  “No,” he says firmly. “Sorry, but apples are completely, strictly, absolutely off limits for me. And I’m serious when I say that.”

  I stare into his blazing eyes, suppressing the blush rising to my cheeks. I know I promised I wouldn’t do anything bad, but when did a little white lie ever hurt anybody?

  I take a swallow. “And what if I said that just makes me want you to taste it more?”

  “I’d say tough luck.”

  A moment of tense silence stretches between us. All I can hear is my own breathing. “…And if I said I wasn’t afraid of a challenge?”

  He steps closer, his face growing hungrier, making a new shiver of excitement run through me.

  “You know, I’d say I’m under a challenge, too,” he murmurs. “You see, it’s very hard for me not to take a bite out of the apple. The hardest thing in the world, actually. And it’s especially difficult right now for some reason. But abstaining from eating apples keeps me out of trouble, and I’m warning you to stop tempting me with such delicious fruit.”

  He glances down at my body and then flexes both of his big arms, sending a silent warning. His threat sets off a chain reaction in my body: my abdominal muscles clench, my breath speeds up, and heat blooms between my legs. I decide that I want to know what I am being warned about.

  I slowly reach up, take a bite out of the apple, and say the following words: “You’re wrong, Stellan. Being bad tastes good. I just wish you’d taste it, too.”

  I see one last battle wage on his face before he closes his eyes and exhales sharply, and when he opens them again it’s like he’s become a completely different person instantly. That fire I saw in him earlier when he scared off Luc, that incredible intensity, returns. His expression is no longer just hungry, but absolutely ravenous, and he’s taken on the same aggressive stance as before. His dark eyes shine with desperate need, and the fact that that need is directed at me nearly sends me over the edge. First the halo
disappeared, and now horns have sprung up where the halo used to be.

  “Damn it, Taylor, you really shouldn’t have said that,” he says as he flashes an almost evil smile. “And fuck, did I just curse? How unholy of me. But not nearly as unholy as what I’m about to do.”

  A pang of something primal and terrifying rocks me from head to toe.

  “Why not?” I ask softly as the apple drops from my hand and rolls across the floor. He steps forward until he is an inch away from me, his eyes fiery daggers that pierce into my soul and ignite every inch of me in white-hot desire…and red-hot fear.

  “Because I’m about to make you come harder than you’ve ever come in your life.”

  4

  Stellan Goode

  I didn’t want to do this. I really didn’t. I tried everything I could to get away from her in the bar, but when that asshole put his hands on her it sent me into an almost uncontrollable rage, and I just had to help her. Then she proved too intoxicating to step away from, and one thing led to another, and now I’m here. What can I say? I’m a born sinner. The second she looked me in the eye and told me she wanted me to be bad, I felt Good Stellan disappear into a corner and Bad Stellan take control.

  I just hope, for her sake, that I’ll be able to stop myself before things get out of control.

  “Turn around,” I tell her. “Now.”

  “Here?” she asks, her eyes wide. “Someone could walk in, just let me lock the door first-”

  “No.”

  I press forward again until our bodies are touching, somehow overcoming the violent urge that rises up in me to tear off her jeans, pick her up by the waist, wrap her legs around me, and fuck her ‘til kingdom come; throwing her up and down on top of me while I support her weight. She is beautiful and perfect and gorgeous and I want her so much. The smell of her glossy brown hair is making me feel things I haven’t felt in years, and the quickness of her breath is making me want to make it speed up even more. It’s not good that she doesn’t have roommates- that means I have no incentive for this to not end badly- but hopefully I’ll be able to stop things before they go too far.

  And if I can’t?

  Then God help this beautiful girl standing in front of me.

  “If we get caught,” I tell her, “then it’ll be your fault for tempting me with your perfect self. Now turn around, please.”

  With terrified eyes, she rotates until her back is touching my stomach. She gasps as she realizes why I positioned her like this: we’re both facing a floor-length mirror across the room, my head visible above her shoulder. She wants to see me be bad? Good, because she’s going to. Literally. She is going to see everything I am about to do, and she’s going to get a front-row ticket to why she should stay the hell away from me, since I’m obviously not strong enough to walk away from her by myself.

  “You remember when I told you I couldn’t fuck you?” I whisper into her ear as I stare into her eyes in the mirror.

  “Yes,” she says breathlessly.

  “Well, I can’t. But that doesn’t mean I can’t make you come for me in this mirror.”

  I kiss her neck softly, making her shiver, and then I run my tongue up her earlobe, feeling her grow tense under me. As I look at her in the mirror something makes me angry- why can’t she see how perfect she is?

  “It made me very mad when you said you’re not beautiful, Taylor,” I murmur as I kiss her ear. “I want you to see how amazing you are. I want you to see what I see, I want you to feel what I feel. I want you to feel how wanted you are.”

  At the word “feel” I slap her ass- hard. She yelps, but stays put.

  Scared of the monster yet?

  I take my hands and place them on the backs of hers, intersecting our fingers and locking hers within mine, giving me full control of her hand movement. She will do whatever I do and feel whatever I feel, and that turns me on like nothing in my life before. I take our right hands and place them on her stomach, and she instantly inhales at our touch. Slowly I run our hands down her abdomen, stopping to play with the belly button ring I feel beneath her shirt. I tug it and twist it around a little using her own fingers, making her take another sharp breath. After a few seconds I lead her hand down further and slip her fingers over her belt loop onto her crotch, making her eyes roll back in her head. As one hand lightly rubs her pussy I take the other and move it up to her left breast and begin rubbing the perimeter of her nipple through her thin shirt and bra using her own fingers, circling around and around but never touching it, making it harden and extend under the fabric.

  “You feel so nice, baby,” I tell her softly. “You’re so fucking hot. Look at what you’re doing to yourself in front of me.”

  She looks into my eyes in the mirror and moans. Keeping my gaze locked on her barely-open eyelids, I plant a gentle kiss on her cheek to make her think I’ve calmed, and then suddenly dive my mouth down to her ear and begin sucking hungrily, kissing and licking it like it’s the part of her between her legs- the part I really want to be kissing. She cries out and arches her lower back, and as she fidgets under me I leave her ear and journey down the line of her jaw to her neck, planting kisses and nibbling here and there and tracing lines with my tongue on her pale skin. Shit, this girl is hot. I can’t believe I never found her before tonight. She’s everything I want and more.

  But you can’t have her, Good Stellan warns me. You know what could happen again. You don’t want to do this. Soon you won’t be able to stop, and you know it.

  I tell him to shut up and then focus my attention on Taylor again. As we lightly tease her pussy I use her hand to pinch her nipple, making her lean back and whine into my ear. I’d say from previous experience that her breasts are a small C cup, which is perfect- not too big, not to small, just the right amount of softness, and perky as hell. Ah, just touching them makes me want to do all sorts of terrible things to her. My mind races, thinking of all the positions I could take her in: I could push her up against the refrigerator and grab her hips and fuck her from behind while I whisper filthy things into her ear, or maybe I could bend her over on the counter and hold her arms behind her back and grab her hair like a lasso while I sink into her again and again. I want her fast and hard and rough, and I want her right now, and then I want her every day after that.

  As I focus on the three areas- pussy, nipple, and neck- she looks into my dark, tortured eyes in the mirror again, Bad Stellan’s eyes, and goes weak at the knees, and I have to wrap my arms round her tighter and stick out my knee to support her. As her nipple gets even harder I unzip her jeans and force them down a few inches.

  “Feel this,” I say as I manipulate her fingers to rub her clit in slow circles through her lacy underwear. “I love this pussy already, and I want it to be mine. Only mine. Ah, baby, you’re getting so wet for me, and I want you to feel it too. Te quiero, mami.”

  She whimpers at that last part, the Spanish part that I didn’t even mean to add in. I usually only speak Spanish when I’m around Marisa, but screw it. Swept up in the moment, I suddenly take the hand on her breast and force it around her back, grazing her fingers over the tip of me, which is currently straining against my belt loop, trying to break through and expand to its full size. I definitely don’t want to show that to her yet, as I know from past experience that she’d get so freaked out that it would be too big and would hurt her, she’d lose her desire for me in an instant.

  “Do you feel that, baby?” I growl into her ear as I rub her fingers across the tip of me through the fabric. “That’s you. That’s all you. That’s what you do to me- that’s how much I want you. I want to fuck you right now. You are so. Fucking. Hot.”

  She practically convulses under me.

  “Do it then,” she says quietly as I kiss her neck.

  “Do what?” I spit back. “Say it, baby. Say the words.”

  She gulps. “Fuck me, Stellan.”

  The sound of her saying those words- fuck me- is the hottest thing I have ever heard in my life, and
it makes me shudder from head to toe. I am now one millisecond away from taking myself out of my pants, pushing her against the mirror face-first, and fucking her from behind while I make her watch. But at the last second Good Stellan reminds me that I am too messed up for her and that I need to stay out of her life because I am damaged goods. This moment is all we can have, and then I’m gone forever. I have to be. I take our hands off myself because I know it’s about to make me lose control, and then I return them to her nipple and commence rubbing and pinching her.

  “I can’t, baby,” I whisper. “But I can do this.”

  As we rub her clit in circles through her underwear I take her thumb and push down, making her moan louder than ever. It doesn’t matter that I’m not technically entering her, since I know that focusing on this explosive spot can have even more of an effect sometimes. And I’m not breaking any rules- I said I wouldn’t fuck her, and I’m not. As I admire her in the mirror I notice that she’s staring at the silver cross peeking through my jacket, and I think I detect a hint of guilt on her face.

  “Yes, baby, you should feel bad,” I grunt into her ear. “This is wrong and you made me do it. Now suck it.”

  I grab the cross and pop it into her mouth. With wild eyes, she runs her tongue along the cold metal before I pull it out and let it drop back to my chest. This is sinful and I know it, and that’s exactly why I am so turned on by it. I haven’t let myself indulge like this in years, and every second that goes by brings me one second closer to bliss – and one second closer to possibly losing control and hurting her.

  “Look at yourself,” I tell her as our eyes meet in the mirror again, ignoring the warning signs going off in my head. “Look at me worshipping you. Do you see how sexy you are now? Look me in the eyes right fucking now and tell me.”

  “Yes,” she whimpers.

  “Say it louder. Now.”

  “Yes!” she calls, her voice filling the kitchen.

  “Not loud enough,” I say, my temper flaring. As we massage her nipples with our left hands I pull our right hands away six inches and then slap her clit. As she yelps with pleasure I return my hand to her underwear and speed up all three movements, licking her ear slowly but hungrily as we rub and pinch her nipples and tease her through the thin film of her underwear, pushing down every so often to get her closer to the edge. Her hips start to move with me, swaying in wide circles, nearly pushing me over the edge in return. I circle around and around and around on her clit, never making contact with her skin, and driving her absolutely crazy because of it.