Bad Boys of Chaos: The Complete Duet Boxset: Books 1-2

by Marie York

  Her eyelashes fluttered, and dammit she needed to stop that shit. “Always?”

  “Undefeated,” I confirmed.

  “And I bet you’re not cocky about it at all.”

  I lifted my eyebrows in mock shock. “Me? Never.”

  She laughed. It was the best sound I’d ever heard, and all I wanted to do was keep saying and doing things so I could hear it over and over again. I reached my hand out and tucked one of her stray curls behind her ear, letting my hand linger on the soft curve of her jaw. Her laughing stopped completely and I sighed. “Your laugh is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at me, then burst out with a big whopping laugh. “Is that the best line you have?”

  My hand fell back to my lap, but not one to accept defeat, I stood up, and bent down so my lips grazed her ear. “It’s not a line when you’re speaking the truth.” Her hand reached for her ear and stroked it while I backed away. I jumped into the ring and looked down at her. “You coming?”

  She nodded, then got up and followed me to the center. “So, what are you going to teach me today?”

  “The first move you usually learn in a women’s self-defense class.”

  Her eyebrows pinched above the bridge of her nose, creating a row of adorable wrinkles. “Then, why haven’t you showed it to me yet?”

  “I wanted to wait till you were more comfortable with me?”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Lay down.”

  She looked at me skeptically, but then did as I said. I went to her, taking her legs, trying to ignore how amazing they felt in my hands and pushed them into the proper position. I got on my knees, and went in between her legs, pushing my crotch into her, then rested my hands on either side of her face.

  “Oh,” she whispered.

  She smelled so fucking good, and with the restraint of a god, I focused on the task. “The first thing you want to do is push your hands into my chest. You don’t want me to be able to do this.” I leaned down, pressing my chest against her tits. She sucked in a ragged breath, and I pulled back quickly so she wouldn’t get uncomfortable. “Now, put your hands on my shoulders.”

  Hesitantly, she pressed her palms just beneath my shoulder blades, then her fingers into my shoulders. “You’re all sweaty,” she said, and I could tell she was trying to make the situation less awkward.

  “I told you sweating is a good thing.”

  “You didn’t say anything about touching it being a good thing.”

  “I didn’t think I had to. Everyone knows there’s nothing better than two sweaty bodies against each other.”

  A beautiful shade of crimson crept into her cheeks. “Okay, Casanova, back to the move. My hands are on your shoulders.”

  “Now, remember. If you’re being attacked, you wouldn’t be enjoying it as much as you are right now.” I winked, which won me a swat to the chest. A smile curved my lips at her innocent love tap. “Just saying. Okay, now keep your arms extended.” I pushed into her, and her arms resisted my weight. “See. As long as you keep your arms extended, no matter how big the other person is, you can pretty much hold them up.”

  She pressed into me, and I lifted away from her. A satisfied look crossed her face, and she nodded. “Good to know. What else?”

  I took my hand, wrapping it around her wrist, and bent her elbow. “Watch what happens when you don’t extend.” She kept her elbows bent, and I pushed down, breaking the resistance and pressing our chests together. I lifted up slightly, my mouth inches from hers, her lips practically begging me to devour them. “Keep your arms extended, and don’t let a guy get this close,” I said softly.

  Her eyes raked over my face as her breathing picked up. “Got it,” she murmured. “Don’t let a guy get this close.”

  “Never.” I moved my head closer to hers, unable to resist those pretty plump lips. She didn’t heed my warning. I tried to control myself, but my control was out the fucking window. I crushed my lips to hers, and my God was she the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted.

  I wanted to taste every gorgeous curve, every single inch of her. I swiped my tongue across her crease, demanding her to let me in. She parted her lips, and a moan slipped out. It fueled the fire raging inside of me, and I thrust my hands into her ponytail, knotting my fingers into her curls.

  Her hands roamed up my sides, and I pressed my rock-hard cock against her center. I wanted inside of her so desperately. It had been fucking torture trying to keep my hands to myself.

  I cupped her cheek and ran my other hand down her neck, going to the one place I’d been dreaming about for weeks. My fingers curved around the amazing mound of flesh and I squeezed, satisfied with how her tit overfilled my hand.

  I tore my lips away from her, and kissed her neck, sucking and licking as I trailed a path down to her shoulder. Her hands froze on my sides, body turning to solid stone. “Stop!” She struggled beneath me, twisting and bucking.

  My entire body came to a halt and I lifted off of her. “What’s the matter?”

  “I can’t do this.” She shook her head almost violently. “I need to go.”

  I pushed off of her, and tried to reason with myself, but frustration poured out. I slammed my fist into the post, the ropes shook, and she flinched. “Was this your plan? Get me all riled up, and then fucking leave?”

  She sat up and pulled her knees against her chest. Shame and embarrassment radiated off her, and the asshole I was, was happy for it.

  “No,” she whimpered.

  “Then, what is it? Because you’ve been driving me fucking crazy for weeks. I can’t get rid of you. You’re in my head, in my dreams, fucking everywhere. And what was that shit about me not being that guy? Why even fucking say that? Clearly, you think I am.” She stood up and came to me, resting her hand on my arm, but I shook it off. “Don’t touch me right now. Not if you’re going to walk out that fucking door.”

  She let out a sigh, as confusion and God knows what flashed across her face. Her body went to move toward me, but then she quickly turned around, and climbed out of the ring.

  When she was on the ground, she stopped and turned to me. “For the record. I don’t think you’re that guy. It’s me, not you,” she said, and took off before I could say another word.

  What the fuck was that supposed to mean? This is exactly why I didn’t get involved. Chicks were out of their goddamned minds. Still, I found myself heading for the door, but as I reached for the handle, I stopped myself.

  I didn’t run after girls. They came to me.

  Chapter 13

  Nixon

  It had been two days since Brooklyn left me horned up and alone. She hadn’t come to one session or even our personal nightly ones. Like a fucking moron, I went to Mark’s place and sat there the past two nights, hoping she’d show.

  It was my out. I was already in too fucking deep for my liking, but I couldn’t walk away just yet. Why? I had no fucking clue. All I knew was that I was a fucking idiot for not saying screw this and moving on with my life. I had a fight to focus on. That was my life. But I couldn’t get Brooklyn out of my head. No amount of alcohol, and not even a slut who gave the best head, could erase Brooklyn from my mind. She was a goddamned parasite, gnawing away at my insides.

  So, without even thinking, I drove to the diner where she worked. Just like last time, I had no idea what I was going to say, or what was going to happen, but unlike last time, I didn’t get my hopes up. It would probably end worse than the last time we spoke, but I didn’t care. I needed to see her.

  Her car wasn’t in the lot. I glanced down at the clock. It was just after five-thirty, the middle of her shift. I put Tanya in park and went inside. The place was outdated with ripped up vinyl booths and fifty years of grease buildup on the floor.

  “One?” A woman with blonde frizzy hair, and way too much blue eye shadow, asked in a harsh voice as she picked up a menu. She turned back to me and smiled. Her teeth were stained, probably from years of smokin
g and red lipstick smeared across her front tooth.

  “Actually, no.” I smiled back, amping up the charm. “I was looking for someone who works here. Brooklyn. Is she coming in today?”

  “Oh no, sweetie. She’s been out the past two days. Said she’s sick. The flu or something. I offered to bring her some of our famous chicken noodle soup, but she told me it wasn’t necessary.”

  She seemed fine the other night. Not even a sniffle. “Thanks anyway,” I said, and walked out.

  Sick my ass. More like she didn’t want me to find her. Well, too damn bad. I still had a shit ton to say, and I was going to fucking say it. I headed back to the gym and nodded at Randy, but he was too busy flirting with a teenage girl to notice me. He needed to watch himself. Because, one of these days, he was going to get his ass thrown in jail for statutory rape, and not because he liked them young, but because he was too fucking stupid to realize they were underage. Right now, however, that was his problem, I had my own to deal with.

  I logged into the computer system, and typed Brooklyn’s name in. A few seconds later, her file popped up with her information and address. I tapped it into the GPS on my phone, and took off to find her.

  She lived in the shit part of town. Rundown houses and too many shady people loitering outside strip malls. No wonder she wanted to learn how to defend herself. She should be carrying a fucking gun and pepper spray just to get the mail.

  The GPS directed me to a brick building that luckily was the nicest looking thing on this block. I pulled into the parking lot and made my way to 5B.

  The hall smelled like curry and mildew, a vile combination. I came up to her door, and laughed at the welcome mat beneath it with flowers and butterflies. It was the brightest thing in this dingy hallway.

  I banged on the door, expecting I’d have to do a lot of coaxing to get her to actually open it, but within seconds, it flew open.

  A big guy with a crew cut and dog tags hanging around his neck stood there. “Can I help you?” he asked.

  I looked down the hall then back at the number on the door. This was it. 5B. “I’m looking for Brooklyn. She home?”

  “Who the fuck are you?” the guy growled. Like that would fucking intimidate me. He crossed his arms over his chest, staring me down. I didn’t care how big his fucking arms were. I could take him down with one hit.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I demanded back.

  “Her husband,” he barked.

  His words hit me harder than any hit I’d ever taken. I stumbled back like I just took a direct blow to the chest.

  Shock exploded inside me and I needed to get out of there before I put my hand through something. Without another word, I took off, swearing to all that was holy that I would never look at a girl as more than a body and a hole ever again.

  Chapter 14

  Brooklyn

  The door slammed shut with enough force to knock the picture of me and my family off the wall, and the knot in my stomach tightened in fear. I couldn’t hide. He’d find me. He always did and when he did… it was always worse. So, I slipped back into the kitchen, and continued washing the dishes, pretending like I didn’t hear Nix on the other side of that door. Like I didn’t want to run to him and have him save me from the biggest mistake of my past. Nix didn’t need to be involved. It was my burden to bear, not his.

  “Brooklyn!” Karl bellowed, sending dreaded goosebumps down my spine. I knew he was pissed because he called me by my name, instead of the ridiculous nickname he usually had for me.

  I continued washing the dishes, praying that he’d be too tired from his trip, and would let it go. Who was I kidding? Karl never let anything go. I knew what was coming, but denial had become my defense mechanism of choice, so I continued to pray for the best as I heard his footsteps coming closer. His hand slapped down on my arm, the familiar sting rendering me breathless for a moment as his fingers dug deep into my skin. He whipped me around, causing the plate in my hand to slip out, and shatter on the floor.

  “Look what you did, bitch. Clean it up!” He shoved me down to the floor, my knees slamming into the hard tile of the kitchen, bits of the shattered mess, embedding themselves into my kneecaps.

  I bit back the cry that was pushing its way up my throat and picked up the broken pieces of ceramic. I tried desperately to keep my hands from shaking. The last thing I wanted was for Karl to see my fear. The sick bastard fed on it. He found pleasure in intimidating me. I learned a long time ago that the minute he’d see an ounce of fear in me, he’d cling to it, and continuously torture me until I was cowering in a corner.

  That girl, the one he could manipulate, I thought I left her back home. Hundreds of miles away from here with him. I never thought he’d find me. Foolishly, I’d begun to feel safe, comfortable here. I should’ve known.

  The words he always threatened echoed in my mind. The only way you’ll get away from me is over my dead body.

  I thought about killing him in his sleep, poisoning his dinner, but no matter how badly I wanted it, I could never bring myself to do it. I didn’t have it in me to take a life. So, while he was deployed, I got a job he didn’t know about, and saved everything, until I had enough money to leave. I got in my car, made sure I covered all my tracks, and never looked back.

  I thought I was free. I should’ve known better. He was a cruel possessive bastard with contacts in the upper crust of the military, thanks to daddy. Of course he found me. How could I have been so stupid to think I could just run away?

  I had to. In my mind, I had no other choice. I was at my breaking point and just couldn’t bear the thought of another beating. Another rape. He, of course, didn’t think he was hurting me or raping me. Karl thought he was entitled to do with me as he pleased, all because of a piece of paper showing we were married. To him, that meant nothing more than ownership, possession. I had been just so tired of it. I contemplated suicide, but decided I would not give the bastard that much power over my life. He had already taken enough from me, so I took the first opportunity I could find to try and change things for myself.

  Look where it got me. Like the pathetic girl I was, I crawled to the garbage, and disposed of the mess. Maybe if I wasn’t at eye level, he wouldn’t hurt me. I had learned a few tricks over the years to help minimize his tirades. Things like not making eye contact with him and keeping my mouth shut as he raged. My submission and acceptance of what was to come always seemed to lessen his anger. So, I closed my eyes, didn’t utter a peep, and once again prayed for the best. My wishful thinking quickly dissolved as he grabbed me by my hair, and yanked me up from the floor. I took in a deep breath as the pain emanated through my head, and I willed myself not to cry.

  His green eyes that I once thought were the most beautiful things in the world, turned dark, displaying his true colors that I had grown all too familiar with. I could see the rage and disgust building with each passing breath, just waiting to release itself on me.

  “Who the fuck was that?” he demanded, flinging his arm toward the front door.

  “I…I don’t know,” I stuttered. I forced myself to look him in the eyes as I desperately fought to maintain my composure. I needed him to believe me, and looking down or averting his gaze was one sure way to let him know I was lying.

  His hand tightened on my arm, his nails cutting into my flesh. He pulled me close to him. “Don’t you lie to me.” Spit flying from his mouth. I shrieked and tried to cover my face, but it only fueled his anger. His harsh hold became deadly, bruising my skin, and his nostrils flared. “You know what happens when you lie. Don’t tell me you forgot?”

  “No,” I squeaked. “I didn’t.”

  “You didn’t lie, or you didn’t forget?”

  I didn’t forget, and because of that, I needed to really think about my response. If I admitted I lied, he’d have me over his knee, and the type of punishment he’d deliver was nothing like those erotic books and movies portrayed. There would be no pleasure to follow. Only pain and raw swollen skin. I n
eeded him to believe that I only knew Nix casually, and he meant nothing to me.

  “He’s a customer at my job. Probably just wondering why I haven’t shown up in a few days.” I hoped it would be enough to appease him for now.

  Karl’s grip loosened and he ran a finger down my cheek. Suddenly, the terrifying man disappeared, and the sweet, caring boy I fell in love with returned. “I’m here now, kitten. I’ll take care of you. You don’t need to work anymore.” He pulled me tightly against his hard chest, squeezing to the point of pain. “You know I love you, right?”

  I nodded, trying to hold the tears back, as he hugged my head to his chest. His moods changed at the drop of a dime, and if I didn’t go along with it, he’d snap right back to heartless. I was once again caught in this vicious cycle that had become my life.

  The freedom that was in my grasp only hours ago faded away and I was trapped.

  Again.

  Chapter 15

  Nixon

  My fist landed, blow after blow, on the bag. I hadn’t bothered to put gloves on since as soon as I walked in, my mind jumped on a one-way track, and I couldn’t get to the bag fast enough. My knuckles should’ve been screaming, but I couldn’t feel anything through the anger.

  Fucking married! I couldn’t even comprehend it. Was that why she swore me off on day one? Why she panicked every time I got to close? She suddenly became riddled with guilt.

  Whatever. I didn’t fucking care. She was nothing to me now. The only problem was, no matter how many times I hit the bag, no matter how hard I tried to force out the vision of her beneath me, her lips on mine, I couldn’t. Those perfect tits and stupid curls that I just wanted to touch wouldn’t leave my damn mind.

  I landed another punch, causing the bag to sway. I stepped into it, pulled back my arm, and gathered all the anger into my fists. I swung again, but this time I gave it all that I had. The chains rattled, and the bag broke free from its restraint, falling to the floor.