Flirt: Bad Boy Romance

by Ashley Hall

  “I don’t care what people think about me.”

  “Good. I’m glad. It shouldn’t matter that people think you look ridiculous in that skirt.” He grinned recklessly.

  “I don’t!”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll grant you that, but…who wears a skirt to wade through mud to clean up?”

  “At least I’m wearing boots,” I pointed out. His sneakers were sinking into the mud.

  He sighed and threw up his hands. “I guess I just lack common sense.”

  “Yep.” With a giggle, I smiled. “Oh, no!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Look at this!” I handed him a disgusting half-destroyed condom box.

  He laughed. “I hoped they used them all up before the mudslide hit.”

  Time was flying by as we cleaned and joked. We were getting along great, as we seemed to do so well.

  Some of the stuff we found was hilarious, but some of it was sad. It was horrible to think what these people had gone through. Once we cleared the mud of everything we could find, we moved on to the rubble. This was easier, and we worked faster. My fingers brushed against something sharp and jagged as I pushed aside the rubble, and I pulled out a broken Virgin Mary figure.

  Come to think of it, there was one topic we hadn’t talked about yet.

  Like I did with the condom box, I handed the figure to Wes. “Do you believe in God?” I asked.

  He shrugged.

  Puzzled, I asked, “What does that mean?”

  Wes grimaced and he tilted his head to the side. He visibly seemed to be thinking, which I appreciated. I wanted to know what he honestly thought. I didn’t want a flippant answer.

  “I used to think there was one,” he said slowly. “Then I thought there wasn’t, and now I just don’t know.” He took a deep breath. “There are a lot of good reasons on both sides, and I change my mind a lot.”

  “Well, what do you think right this second?” I patted my hands to try to get the dirt from my hands. I wouldn’t be surprised if I had dirt on my face too, especially since I just wiped sweat from my forehead. My hair had to be messy, and my face was probably blotchy from exertion.

  But Wes was staring at me, looking at me for a long, deep moment. I didn’t understand what was happening, and then he said, “Yeah. Right now, yeah.”

  I wanted to continue the conversation, but it was obvious Wes didn’t want to, so the subject dropped. Eventually, I would like to revisit it, but for now, I’d let it go. I couldn’t imagine all he had gone through, how alone he must have felt at times. To not have anyone—no family, no friends—and then to not even have God…it was tragic, and it made me feel for him all the more.

  ***

  During our lunch break, Wes and I sat together alone. We joked and teased and flirted a little, but when there was a lull in the conversation, I cleared my throat. “Wes…”

  “Yeah?”

  “I…can I talk to you about something?”

  “Anything, April.” The look he gave me made me feel like I was his whole world. It was amazing. And terrifying.

  “I’m scared.”

  “Of what?”

  “I don’t want to be married off. I…I never thought Dad ever would. I mean, I kinda figured he would have a hand in who I married, but he never discouraged me from having crushes. I don’t know. I guess he thought it was harmless maybe. I mean, it doesn’t seem like he thought that…well, I just…he never forbade me from dating, but now that I think about it, he did think it was a little silly. Maybe he always assumed he would find a guy for me. I mean, he found my job for me, a college for me…why not a husband too?”

  Wes bristled instantly, his face turning dark and dangerous. “I won’t let it happen to you.”

  He sounded so forceful, so strong, and while I appreciated his words, I knew there was nothing he could actually do.

  Just like there was nothing I could do for Mom and for Penelope.

  Tears burned my eyes, and I couldn’t take the burden of the secret anymore. “Can I tell you something?”

  He grinned and laughed a little. “Of course, idiot.”

  I tried to grin back, but I couldn’t. “You know Penelope?”

  “Don’t tell me your asshole father has a guy lined up for her already.”

  I shook my head and blinked rapidly to prevent myself from crying. “No. At least I don’t think so. He better not. It’s…Yvonne isn’t her mother.”

  “What?” He scratched his head and leaned toward me.

  “My mom is. Penelope’s my sister, not my half-sister. Yvonne and my mom got pregnant around the same time, but Yvonne had a miscarriage and was so devastated about it that Dad forced Mom to agree to let Yvonne raise Penelope as her own.”

  “Wow.” He shook his head incredulously. “I didn’t think the family could be any more fucked up, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  I hung my head. It hurt to hear him call the family, my family, fucked up, even though he was only telling the truth. “I couldn’t keep the secret anymore. I shouldn’t have told you.”

  “No.” He reached across the table and patted my hand. “I’m glad you told me. I…it’s nice to have someone confide in me, to trust me with a secret, especially with one so big.”

  “You make it sound like no one’s trusted you before.” That was heartbreaking. How can anyone thrive in conditions like that? Had anyone ever given him a chance? Of course he would falter and fail and stumble his way through life if no one gave him guidance, if no one pushed him to be a better version of himself. I mean, could I be certain I would be where I was right now in life if it weren’t for my family?

  And where exactly was I? Being pressured to go to community college even though it might not be the best option for me. Potentially being pressured to marry before I was ready to a man I wouldn’t know, let alone love.

  What kind of a future was that?

  Not the kind of future I wanted for myself. Not at all.

  “Trust?” Wes spat out the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth. “Not a word I ever heard in a positive light. I wasn’t trusted to do anything except to screw up. When you’ve been yelled out and beaten down by words and fists long enough, you either start to believe it or you fight back and rebel. At first, when it started, I tried to do right. I tried to do what they wanted. But I was never good enough, and the insults, the fists…they kept on flying. So I changed. I hardened. I fought back with words and with fists. Yeah, maybe there were times I could’ve kept the peace if I’d kept my mouth shut, if I kept my head down, but sometimes, you just gotta stand up for yourself, especially when no one else would.”

  “Oh.” I was nearly speechless. I couldn’t imagine the life he’d lived. While things hadn’t always been the rosiest, even my worst times had to be better than all of his. Plus I had a mom who loved me dearly. Wes hadn’t had either parent in his life growing up.

  “I never had anyone in my life. Not since my mom left me.” Wes shrugged nonchalantly, like it didn’t matter to him, but I could see the blankness in his eyes. He was trying to hide his feelings, but I could see them anyhow. He’d been scarred.

  I shook my head and held out my hand, palm up. He placed his in mine, and I squeezed his hand tightly. “Why did your mom leave you to begin with?”

  I knew it wasn’t right to judge someone, but if I was honest with myself, I was judging Jacqueline pretty hard right now.

  “Because she didn’t have the money to take care of me. Couldn’t afford anything for me. And my dad? He’d just been MIA forever.”

  My heart broke for him.

  “The worst part?” he added. “I never felt like I belonged. But that’s also made me stronger. And unafraid.”

  Staring at him, into his eyes, I believed him. He might be scarred, but he was strong too. Unafraid. Unabashed. Despite the hardships, Wes was a man. Did he stumble? Yes, but even if he fell, he got back up again.

  And in that moment, I wanted to trust him, to be there for
him, to push him to be better.

  And I couldn’t help but wonder if he could push me to be better too.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Wes

  Time moved quickly, for me at least, but it soon became clear that it was moving much slower for April. And it was also becoming clear that she was getting more and more depressed as the trip went on. There had to be something I could do to help snap her out of this funk. I hated to see her so down. If only I could take her mind off of things…and I didn’t mean by being sexual with her, which surprised me. I loved getting it on with her. I loved it when we fucked, and I thoroughly enjoyed when we had sex. The times when it was more lovemaking, okay, yeah, that frightened me, but even that was surreal and amazing.

  But I didn’t just want her for her body. It was strange. I never felt like this before, but I almost felt like I couldn’t be happy if she wasn’t happy too. And, of course, I wanted her to be happy for her own sake, not for mine.

  All night long, I wracked my brain to figure out what I could do while we were stuck out here on the youth mission trip, because I wasn’t about to wait until we returned to that Hell of a house to try to lift her spirits. If being away from that dump alone wasn’t enough to make her happy, then returning to it sure wouldn’t help any.

  Obviously, I didn’t get a lot of sleep, so I seized a blanket and sneaked out of the guys’ cabin. It wasn’t easy, tiptoeing in the darkness, making sure not to wake anyone, but I managed, and I hurried next door to the girls’ cabin. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. It wasn’t morning yet. Moving just as quietly as before, I made my way to her, and when I reached her bed, I shook her gently awake. She jerked and stared at me, confusion in her eyes.

  I put a finger to my lips and then grabbed her hand. She came willingly, and we left the small cabin behind. Earlier, I had spied a nearby mountain trail and, maintaining my silence, I guided us toward it. We walked up in silence. It wasn’t that I didn’t have anything to say to her. There were so many things we could talk about, some important, some silly, some to tease her, some to, I didn’t know, maybe be sweet. But the silence was nice. I didn’t feel the need to fill it with emptiness. It was already full. It was enough to just be with her, this early in the day, when the world hadn’t come to life yet.

  “What are we doing?” she asked, and I almost winced at her ruining the moment.

  “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.” I grinned at her.

  Her eyes narrowed. “There isn’t a car hidden somewhere or a bike, is there?”

  Did she want to run away with me? Or not?

  “Your first guess is wrong,” I said lightly. “Only two more, but if you get ’em both wrong, we’re gonna turn around and go back to our beds.”

  “Then I just won’t bother to guess.” She brushed her hair back. Even though her hair was a little wild and she wasn’t wearing any makeup, she was still so pretty. She wasn’t like other girls, and I didn’t mean just because of her looks. There was something wholesome and sweet about her that made me want to protect and shelter her, but there was also fire and desire, and that side I wanted to feed and nurture and grow.

  When we reached the top, I laid the blanket down and sat on it. April sat beside me, her head on my shoulder, but since the sun hadn’t made an appearance yet, it was chilly out, and I had no reason to complain when she got up and curled up into my lap. My arms encircled her automatically, and I just held her like this, marveling at how perfectly she fit into my arms. All of our problems and obligations felt like they were miles and miles and miles away, and in our own little world, it was so tempting to open up, to tell her anything and everything, to give and to take.

  “You brought me up here to see the sunrise?” she asked.

  I couldn’t see her face with her turned toward the sun, so I couldn’t gauge her reaction. “Yeah,” I said. “What? You thought I couldn’t be romantic?”

  “It’s not that.” She shifted around slightly and touched my cheek. “It’s the best surprise I’ve ever had.”

  I brought up my hand to cup hers. “I wouldn’t mind doing this a few hundred more times with you.”

  “You aren’t as much of a bad boy as I thought,” she murmured.

  “No?” I grinned recklessly. “Are you sure about that?” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.

  “You’re good,” she continued with a broad grin. “At…a lot of things.”

  I laughed.

  She knocked into me. “I don’t just mean with your mouth or your tongue or your… You are smart, in your own way.”

  “Hey. That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

  “I’m sorry! You’re great with cars. You have a passion for it. You know what you want to do with your life, and I respect that. And I think it’s wonderful that you know what you want out of life. Sometimes…”

  No. I didn’t want her to think down that road.

  “Sometimes I think you know too much. You’re too good at things. All the things,” I said.

  “All the things?”

  “Yes. Like blinking and breathing. You do a good job chewing your food too,” I teased. “But you also do good things to me. You make me think that I can rise above my circumstances, like my past doesn’t have to define me. You aren’t just a pretty girl. You’re more than that.”

  “I’m just pretty?”

  “Fishing for compliments?” I shook his head.

  “I’m not nearly as pretty as that.” She snuggled against me and pointed to the sunrise. It was a majestic sight, the sky changing colors, reds and yellows and oranges all splashed around like a painter had used broad strokes.

  “Not nearly. You’re prettier.”

  She squirmed. “Am I?”

  “Didn’t your parents ever tell you that growing up?”

  “My mom did, but all moms think their daughters are pretty.” She shrugged. “And, Dad…well, he didn’t want me to become vain. He didn’t let me get my ears pierced until I was sixteen. Sixteen for wearing makeup too.”

  Again, I’d let the conversation go off course. We wouldn’t have a ton of time before we had to go back, but I wasn’t ready to give up on this. Not yet.

  “Since what they think and say doesn’t matter, I’ll say it again. You’re pretty. You’re beautiful. You…you’re…”

  She laughed. “Do I make you speechless?”

  “You can steal my breath any time you want.”

  “You wanna turn me into a thief?”

  “You already are one.”

  “Oh?” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “And what did I steal?”

  This flirting…it felt different than the other times. It was deeper, more heartfelt. And speaking of hearts, I kinda wanted to say that she stole mine, but that was corny, wasn’t it?

  But it didn’t matter. I didn’t need to answer, because she turned around on my lap and planted a big kiss on me, a kiss that started out tame but quickly turned passionate. April moved against me, rubbing herself against me, and I grew hard immediately. My hands rubbed up and down her back. She was wearing a pink pajama set, and the soft material made it so easy to feel every inch of her. Still, I slid my hands up the back of her shirt to feel her smooth skin and to push her closer toward me…and my mouth.

  “Oh, God,” I whispered against her lips before we kissed again.

  She pulled back, breathless, her arms wrapped around the back of my head as she continued to dry hump me. “Just…just you wait.”

  Amy stared me straight in the eye as she reached down and lifted my shirt up and over my head. Not about to let myself be the only one undressed, I quickly removed her top. Her full, ripe boobs popped out, and I palmed them, squeezing them, teasing her nipples.

  She shifted against me and lifted up only high enough to pull down her pajama bottoms. Sex outdoors. And close to the cabins. If anyone found us, we would be in a ton of trouble.

  But I didn’t care. And I didn’t think April did either. And it wasn’t too f
ast or too slow. It was pretty much perfect. Yeah, so maybe we didn’t have a ton of time, but it didn’t feel rushed either.

  I lifted up, and April wrapped her arms around my neck. I pulled down my pajama pants—no boxers today—and even though I want to feel all of her naked body against me, I know she wouldn’t go for that. Not out here.

  But even though we were outside, it still felt like we were alone, like we were in a safe little bubble where no one could see us, no one could bother us. No on could stop us.

  April was leading the way, taking charge, and she slid down on top of me, riding me. The entire time, she kept her eyes open, and I loved watching the little flickers in her facial expression when I thrust against her or massaged her shoulders or gripped her ass. It was more powerful, more personal, keeping our eyes open.