“Fuck.” His fingers flew over his buttons, ripping his shirt off. “Smell this.” He thrust the warm, white garment into my hands and I grasped it, shameless and greedy, and buried my face in it. It held a record of Rafael’s day; his trials and tribulations and physical exertion, his cooking…
“Cinnamon?” I asked, surprised.
“Yeah…” he said, “I spilled a jar making breakfast. You can still tell?” He took his shirt back and took in a deep breath of air, then shrugged. “I can’t smell it anymore.” He leaned in and my knee slid between his thighs again as he wedged his leg between mine. We pressed into one another and I felt his heat, still trapped by his clothes.
“You’re overdressed.” My voice was a bit breathy as I worked on his belt buckle and his button, sliding the zipper down with care. He let his pants fall and stepped out of them and there we were, wearing identical black underwear.
He ground into my hip as I pressed in, arching my back.
“You want this, Pearson?”
Pearson.
“Mmm. Feels good, Rinaldi.” And right then and there, as we stood there, rolling against one another, I came to a firm decision. He wouldn’t get any until he called me by my first name. The problem was, I couldn’t tell him that. He had to arrive at that conclusion by his own, lone self. I didn’t want to give him remote-control commands and have him do as I said just so he could get me on my back. I wanted him to throw me down and nail me into the nearest horizontal surface and say my name. Scream my name. Not my father’s name. My name.
Evelyn.
The name my mother gave me eight years before she died.
“THERE’S condoms by the bed,” I said, leaning into Rafael, pushing him back a gentle step.
He followed me into the bedroom and towards the small bathroom. “Shower first?”
He slipped his shorts off and I took stock of what I saw. He was top-to-bottom gorgeous, and so hard it must have hurt.
“Shower later.”
He picked me up and dumped me onto my queen-size bed. The look in his eyes was feral and I returned it with a sly grin. I sat up halfway; he came in, not expecting me to grab his knees and pull. He landed on his back, just as I planned. I landed on top of him, just as I wanted to. My lean legs pinned his knees, my deceptively strong, climber’s arms anchored his wrists.
“Rafael…” I panted, eyes hooded in excitement, kisses raining onto his exposed clavicle. “Would you like the top or the bottom?”
His eyes almost popped out.
“What do you mean?”
“Which way do you like it better?”
Instead of answering, he did a fabulous sit-up, almost tossing me off.
“I’ll figure that out in due time, Goldilocks.”
“How come?” I worked hard to keep my voice level.
“Because I’m bigger and stronger,” he husked by my ear, raising a rash of goose bumps down my body.
“But I’m faster and sneakier,” I hissed, avoiding the move and trying for a pin. It would’ve worked if he hadn’t bridged and hooked his leg around mine. My leverage was gone and I extricated my leg, rolled away, and flashed him a “Chase me!” kind of look.
“Not bad for a girl,” he allowed. “Where did you learn how to wrestle?”
“I have a brother. How about you?”
“High school only; then I got into tennis.”
“Oh.” I got off the bed and stood up, all serious and solemn, looking at him with what I hoped he thought was newfound respect.
“What? It’s just tennis. It’s not a big deal, Pearson.”
“You’ve spent years hitting your balls… that’s what I call dedication.” My hands were raised in a gesture of surrender.
He howled in laughter at the bad pun, dissolving on top of my bed, his wavy, dark hair a fuzzy halo against the pillows. I pounced on him in his moment of weakness and pinned him good, my legs locked around his torso and his arm in a lock. He could barely speak for the laughter filling the room
“Eve…Evelyn you…sneaky…hahaha…bitch! I…I can’t…hah…believe you’d trick me…haha…like that.”
Evelyn.
I could feel my heart melting. He called me…
Faster than a flash I felt him flip me onto my stomach. Apparently a melting heart went along with a loosening grip that day, because I found myself under him, his hips pressing hard against my butt. Yet I didn’t mind, for I was putty in his hands. He could tell right away.
“You giving up?” His voice was low, maybe even disappointed.
“No. You’ve earned the privilege.”
“By what, flipping you over?”
“No… I love what you just called me.”
I could hear the flies buzzing inside his head. “You liked being called a sneaky shit?” Not surprisingly, he sounded somehow incredulous at the revelation. I wiggled and turned under him, wrapping one arm around his neck and the other around his broad back.
“You finally used my first name.”
He raised himself on his elbow, his sapphire eyes meeting mine, and apparently he detected the unfeigned sincerity of my statement, because he smiled that wicked, devastating smile of his – this was the first time I got to see it and experience its full effect.
“Evelyn.” His voice was like dark, melting chocolate
Oh, YES!!!
“Yes, Rafael?” I loved the way his name flowed off my lips, all sensuous and exotic.
“Would you like to face me, or would you like to turn over?”
NOW, that was a good question. Sex was like ice cream. It came in all kinds of flavors and almost all of them were delicious. Today, I decided, I’d prefer to face my partner. It’d been quite a while since I actually had a partner to speak of, and Rafael was much bigger than my old boyfriend had been all those years ago – I hoped my body wouldn’t fail me. On the other hand…
“It’s been a while,” I admitted. I didn’t mean to make it sound so sad and lonely, wincing when Rafael leaned over me, cupping my face.
“What’s the matter, Goldilocks?” His voice was teasing but his eyes were all business.
“Nothing.”
Sue and I broke up right after high school; she had been my early Sapphic flirtation. She’d been so nice, but the chemistry wasn’t quite there. I had loved her, hell I still do, in a way. She’s the sweetest girl I’ve ever met. And once we broke up I couldn’t get Nick’s glimmer of excitement out of my mind. I thought he’d go after her but he ended up pursuing me instead.
Which was how we ended up on the floor of my room over a year later, him inside me and me biting on his shoulder to keep quiet, just when my idiot father barged in, his disregard for my privacy an unpleasant reminder of reality.
My father and I had had a huge row back then, which had centered on his deep dislike for Nick’s father, Dr. Hinge, whom my father kept blaming for my mother’s death. He had given me a choice that night.
I’d switched majors from pre-med to business.
I’d moved out the same week, too.
“Hey, Evelyn.” Rafael’s lips grazed mine in a tender caress and his fingers carded through my hair. “If it’s too big a deal, we don’t have to.”
I realized it had been whole minutes – and minutes is a long time when you’re with someone, not saying anything.
“Sorry… just a bad memory.”
“Of being intimate?” He frowned, concerned.
“Of being found out and kicked out of the house on account of having been intimate,” I sighed. “It’s been five years. Damn!” I turned into him, burying my face in his chest. “Sorry. I’d have thought I’d be over it by now.”
He smiled, his lips stretching in a long, sexy grin. “Sounds like your memory needs to be reprogrammed. Sounds like you need to experience some truly awesome ecstasy to keep the old stuff from intruding like that. When you’re with me, you’re with me one hundred percent.” He put his finger under my chin so that our eyes met. “Aren’t you, Evelyn?”
I felt like I was arrested by his heated gaze and all I could do was swallow and nod.
“I want you.” His voice was a sexy purr. “I want you the way you are and I wouldn’t change a thing. I want you to take me in your mouth and do your magic for just a little while. Then I want you to lie you down so I can do unspeakable things to you.” He buried his face into the crook of my neck and inhaled softly. I shivered when his tongue marked a trail all the way to my ear. He bit me softly at the juncture of neck and shoulder and sucked. Bright sparks of sensation skittered under my skin, making me writhe in scintillating pleasure.
“I want you to scream for me.” His voice was but a low growl and I was relieved to feel the heat rush to my groin.
I wanted this man and I wanted him bad; failure was not an option.
I ENGULFED him, burying my nose in the nest of those chestnut-brown curls and inhaling his intoxicating musk when I felt his fingers tighten in my hair and pull my head up.
“Slow… slow down, will ya?” I heard a click of a lube bottle and let him roll me to my side and spoon me from behind, his arm resting under my neck in a possessive embrace. His hard heat, still tacky from my spit, dried against my lower back as his other hand wandered down my side, my belly, between my legs. He slid a slicked finger down my cleft and circled. His touch was delicate.
A moan escaped me; I heard him chuckle.
His finger dipped lower as he breached me, and I hissed in surprise.
“You okay?”
“Yeah… oh!... Oh!”
He tried to say my name, but his voice became a sibilant hiss as he pressed his hard length against me, his fingers now doing their magic down under. I felt the heat build down in my center and radiate through my shoulders, my nipples, my thighs. His desire fanned the flames of mine, and his voice, oh God… his voice was the sexiest ever, drawling my name out like that. I arched into him in a silent invitation and he rolled me onto my back, his cock poised and ready.
“Condom,” I gasped.
“Oh… Yeah, right…” With a sheepish smile he reached over to my nightstand and ripped a packet open. I heard him snap it on.
His knees pushed mine far apart and I tilted up – pushing Nick out of my mind, banishing my father’s angry voice and scowling face – I was determined to be eager with anticipation, dammit. I focused on the feeling of the cold, wet head about to enter me, trying to relax and push against him and next thing he was buried inside me, hot and smooth. He ground his hips, his elbows by my head, gentle, slow.
The door wasn’t shoved open.
Nobody walked in on us.
Yet.
“Relax, Evelyn...”
A sudden desire to escape washed over me and my eyes must have given me away, because he buried his fingers in my hair and kissed me. Only then he began to move with slow, deliberate strokes. One of his hands rubbed circles over my ear, inadvertently distracting me from the amazing, delicious fullness I felt. I felt him drive deeper and his weight became almost too much – I whimpered – and then I felt it.
A bright brush of pleasure.
“More!” My voice didn’t ask, it commanded. I heard Rafael grunt as he thrust again, hitting that selfsame spot and I let out a low moan, my eyes shut tight against all the sensations I felt flooding me.
One hundred percent.
With Rafael.
One hundred percent.
I grabbed his arms, anchored on the ridges of his triceps; he tried to come in for a kiss but our wild rhythm no longer allowed anything of the sort.
“Rafael…please…Oh!” His pants were short and shallow; he tightened and held his breath momentarily.
“Gwrrraaaahrrr!”
He thrust hard as his pleasure crested, his eyes rolled up in his sockets, that sensuous mouth loud and gasping over me.
He collapsed on top of me, barely supported by his elbows and I reached up and pulled him into a tight hug.
After he rolled off me, I reached for myself out of sheer habit and he pushed my hand away, his left hand under my neck, his right gently circling over my clit in sensuous, long strokes.
“My job,” he whispered, and I let him. His soft lips nuzzled the juncture of my neck and shoulder. A graze of the teeth and a suck on the skin, and it all came together for me.
The mother of all orgasms washed over me in a sweet, powerful wave of release and I exploded under his hand, my throat hoarse.
“Fuck yeah!” He pulled me in real tight and buried his nose into the crook of my neck.
There were just the two of us now.
WE SHOWERED separately and slipped into our black silk undies again.
“Bed?” I asked, hoping he’d stay. He looked undecided.
“Please, Rafael?” I knew no shame. I wanted him next to me, his heat making me too hot, his breath keeping me up with its sensuous whispers behind my ear, keeping the black-haired specter of my long-gone lover away.
“You sure?” he asked. Apparently he wasn’t the type to stay the whole night.
“But I have stuff to do tomorrow…”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” I pointed out.
“Yeah. The weekends are pretty much the only time I can sort through Celia’s old things.”
I thought fast. I’d give up some of my time if only he’d warm my bed – this would be the first time I let somebody sleep over since Nick married Claire.
“I could help for a little bit,” I offered. “If we find her climbing gear…”
He exhaled, his shoulders slumping just a little. “Okay, Goldilocks. You get to snoop through my stuff tomorrow if you really want to.”
I blushed. It wasn’t like that…but he’d never believe me. Relieved, I saw him fix me with that devastating grin as he slipped under my clean sheets.
“Hey Evelyn. You’re with me. One hundred percent. Right?” There was concern in those dark, their brilliant blue darkened by the night; I could barely see them in the midnight shadows of the room.
“I’m with you, Rafael.” My voice seemed to have sealed the situation and I felt him pull me in and spoon me from behind, his left arm under my neck, his left hand stroking my nipple absently.
“Hey, Rafael.”
“What,” he growled, almost asleep.
“If you keep toying with me like that I’ll get hot again. So unless you’re still interested…” I trailed off. His hand stilled, pulling me in even closer.
“Promises, promises… Goldilocks,” he said right before his breath evened out and he fell asleep.
I took a lot longer, unable to banish the thoughts of Nick and Claire at their wedding, of my father’s rage every time happened to run into me and Rafael together, my secret meetings with my brother Carl and my sister DeeDee…only the firm arms around my chest kept my tears at bay. I remember having heard the first cars rumble in the streets before I descended into the realm of uneasy dreams.
THERE WAS an arm under my neck and a knee brushed my thigh, a palm caressed my belly ever so gently. It felt familiar, and warm, and loving.
Rafael…
I felt myself smile as I turned into his chest, the cobwebs of sleep distorting reality as my eyes refused to open. I mumbled something, something sweet. The same hands ran up my back now and I arched into their touch, my own hands sliding up the smooth chest, the throat, the jaw line – the hair was too short. Coarser, too. Bewildered, I pried my eyes open, only to be met with a calm gaze the color of deep, tropical seas. I was locked into that intense gaze; the straight nose, the perfect, pink lips. His hair wasn’t black and at the sight of the auburn tones in his brown, messy mop it all rushed back at me, like a torrent.
Not Nick. Rafael.
I leaned in and brushed his lips with mine, not exhaling. Morning breath was never a pretty thing.
“Nick…” I leaned my forehead into his shoulder, stricken with guilt.
I was with Rafael now.
One hundred percent.
“Hey, Goldilocks…” There was a faint trace of hurt in his
voice. I kissed that strong, warm shoulder, hoping to make it better.
“So who’s Nick?”
I felt like bolting into a run and never stopping; I felt like crawling under a rock and never coming out.
“C’m on, Goldilocks. If you’ll be confusing me with someone, at least let me know who it is.”
I looked up, sensing the tension in his shoulders, the frown mark between his brows. I wanted him to stay. I didn’t want him to be driven away like the rest, didn’t want him to be just the last in a row of sporadic one-night stands.
“You know how you said I needed to be reprogrammed?” I quipped, lifting my face to his again. “Sometimes it takes more than once.”
He rolled on top of me, stroking my hair to the side and nipping my ear hard enough for me to yelp.
“Who. Is. Nick.”
Implacable, blue eyes gazed down at me and behind that tough façade was a world of hurt.
“My first real romantic partner was a girl. Claire Pollack. We dated for seven months. Nick Hinge and the two of us hung out all the time. There were other friends, too, but the three of us were inseparable. So, eventually… Claire and I decided to split up and I figured Nick would court her, but he went after me instead. It was like… it was like a fog had lifted, you know? That feeling you get when you realize something really profound about yourself?”
I saw Rafael close his eyes, then open them again, and nod. “You figured out why it wasn’t going so well with Claire. You liked guys.”
“I like both, but I like guys a lot more.”
“So what happened?”
“So Nick and I dated into college. We… we were really right for one another. We drove each other crazy but managed to make it work, somehow - and there was Claire and she loved both of us and we both loved her back. It was pretty fucked up, I guess…”
A gentle nuzzle tickled my neck; a kiss followed right after. “So what went wrong?”
I Need A Bad Boy: A Collection of Bad Boy Romances Page 19