The Bad Ones

by Stylo Fantome

  Well, when he puts it like that, who am I to argue?

  He pulled away, but wasn’t finished with her. While he stripped down, he ordered her to play with herself. Not a difficult command to heed when she got to stare at his amazing body at the same time. She was close to orgasm when he made her stand up. She pushed herself to her feet, standing so her breasts were brushing against his abdomen. She wasn’t quite five-foot-three and always felt so much smaller than him. His presence was larger than life. Bigger than her, in every way. How on earth had they wound up together?

  “I’m worried this isn’t real,” she whispered. He smiled and lifted his hand, gently running a finger down the side of her face. “I’m worried you’ll go away. I’m worried that I’ll never feel this way, ever again. That there’s no one else out there who would do all this with me.”

  He leaned down so his lips were against her ear and he whispered, “What do I have to do to earn your trust?”

  “Never leave me,” she replied instantly, and could feel his smile. That evil grin.

  “Deal,” he hissed. A fire alarm in the living room started going off and he pulled back to face her.

  “Someone will hear that,” she warned him.

  “Then we’d better get to work. This is going to hurt,” he warned her. She beamed at him.

  “That’s my favorite.”

  He slammed her face first onto the bed and didn’t even hesitate, just thrust every hard inch he had inside her. Dulcie screamed, then bit down on the mattress as he began pounding away. She was petite in more ways than just her build, but Con never took any notice of it; there was no warm up, no gentle love-making. Just fucking, pure and simple. There were times when she was less of a lover and more of a vessel. Somewhere he could pour all his raw sexual energy into, something he could pound at till he’d fucked some of his darkness away.

  I can’t think of a more beautiful purpose in life.

  It was definitely looking like one of those times. She couldn’t even breathe properly, let alone think about what her body was feeling. His fingers were leaving bruises on her hips as he thrust against her and surely at the pace he was setting, he would come soon.

  But then he pulled away and he was urging her fully onto the bed, pushing her onto her back. They were both soaked in sweat and he slid against her, his tongue circling her nipple.

  “God, I really do, I wish you could experience this from my side,” he sighed. Dulcie finally opened her eyes and lifted her head. He wasn’t looking at her, though, his head was tilted down. So she followed his gaze and realized he was watching as he dipped the first couple inches of his cock in her. Then he pulled completely out before doing it again. It drove her wild, the anticipation followed by the denial.

  “It’s pretty good from this end,” she assured him, her voice shaky.

  “No. No, Dulcie. This,” a finger joined his dick at her entrance and he finally pushed until their pelvises met. Her eye rolled back in her head as he wiggled his finger. “Don’t get me wrong, pussy in general is pretty fantastic, but this right here? This pussy is the golden ticket. I could die right now, and it would be with a smile on my face, because I would die doing something I love.”

  His hips picked up speed and her breathing quickly got out of control. The fire alarm was screaming, but not as loud as her. She begged him to fuck her harder, to leave bruises, to make her come. Please, dear god, she wanted to come before he did. Wanted to know she’d been in Frannie’s bed, having better sex than that woman would ever know, and got to have an orgasm the likes of which Frannie could never experience.

  Con had always been good at making her dark dreams come true, so she didn’t have to wait too long. He slithered down her body at one point, his tongue taking the place of his dick. She curled her fingers in his hair and pulled, forcing him to press harder.

  “Constantine … oh fuck … I’m coming … I’m -”

  He moved so fast it kind of shocked her. One moment his head was between her legs, the next he was thrusting his cock inside her. The shift of gears was like a shock to her system and the orgasm just exploded. Her scream came from some faraway pit in hell and when she raked her nails down his chest, she drew blood again.

  “Yes, fuck, good girl, Dulcie. Just like that, fuck,” he hissed, pressing his hand down flat on her lower stomach. Right over where his dick was making itself a new home.

  He’s right, one of us is going to die doing this. I hope it’s me, I don’t know how many more orgasms like this I can survive.

  She could feel it when he came, it was so strong. Then he pulled out, his fist working up and down his cock, continuing to milk the orgasm. She groaned as the first ropey strands landed on her stomach, then he stepped to the side and did exactly what she’d asked him to – he came all over Frannie and Jared’s mattress.

  “How was that?” he asked, completely out of breath. She trailed her index finger through the mess on her stomach, then brought her hand to her mouth and sucked the digit clean.

  “That was abso-fucking-lutely perfect.”

  Con moaned and yanked on her arm. She’d barely sat upright when he was grabbing her by the head and kissing her, his lips crushing her own. She shoved her tongue against his, fighting back, asserting her own dominance.

  “You’re perfect,” he breathed when he pulled away. She smiled and slicked her tongue across his bottom lip. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here before the house burns down around us.”

  18

  Of course Dulcie heard about the tragedy that had befallen the Foster household. Did she know someone had broken into Jared and Frannie’s home? Had she heard about how the pots had been left to burn on the stove? Was she aware that some barbarian had ripped apart all their furniture!? Thank god, though, the fire hadn’t spread to the rest of the house! And thank god only the living room and kitchen had been mainly attacked. The bedrooms had been left unscathed.

  Hmmm, I guess there wasn’t a terribly thorough investigation. Or Frannie isn’t letting certain details out.

  While Con had made sure the house wasn’t actually on fire, Dulcie had cleaned up the bedroom. After everything on the mattress dried, she carefully made up the bed. When she finally stepped away to look at her work, she was pleased – a person would never know anyone had been in the room, let alone that two people had fucked like maniacs on the bed.

  “You’re fucking crazy,” Con had whispered as he’d hugged her from behind. “I love it.”

  Is that what this is? Love? It’s pretty fucking scary.

  They drove back exactly the same way they’d come in, and Dulcie had expected to see police. Firemen. At the very least, gawking neighbors. But there had been nothing. A dog a couple doors down had been going nuts behind its fence, but that was it. As they’d driven away, she’d looked out the back window and couldn’t even tell anything had gone down at the Foster’s home. Their driveway looked the same as ever, there was no hint of the insanity that had taken place within their four walls.

  It rattled the community, that something like that could happen. Such a random act of violence. So senseless. The tiny police force didn’t know how to deal with it, didn’t know what to do. A curfew was instituted for anyone under eighteen, just in case they were dealing with a madman. Dulcie laughed so hard when she read about it in the paper, she started choking and Con had to pound on her back.

  A week went by, and then another. There were no hints, no leads, in the case, and time kept ticking along. August rolled into town, even hotter than July. They slept in her apartment with all the windows open, laying naked and praying for a breeze. Making love and not caring about anything at all.

  Of course, they could’ve stayed at Con’s house. It had air conditioning and lots of rooms to choose from; Mr. Jebediah Masters wasn’t going to complain any time soon. She never asked Con about his dad, but she knew. She just knew Mr. Masters would never be coming home, and that’s why they couldn’t leave town. It would be too suspicious. They wou
ld have to figure out a way to “cover their tracks”, as it were. Make it so no one would have a reason to come asking them any questions.

  Work was becoming more and more difficult. Con had inherited quite a bit of money when his mother had died, he was wealthy in his own right just from that, but he also had access to his father’s fortune, as well. It didn’t even need to be discussed – he had money, so he took care of them. If the situations had been reversed, she would’ve done the same. So really, she didn’t need her job. But for the sake of normalcy, she kept it. So even though she hated it, hated getting out of bed when he was so gorgeous and naked and available to her, she got ready and she went to work.

  “You seem distracted,” David said to her one day. She was behind the bar with him, doing an inventory count on the liquor.

  “I do? How so?” she asked, not looking up from her paperwork.

  “I don’t know. You used to have time to bullshit. Now you’re in and out.”

  “David, I never once stood around and ‘bullshitted’ with you, or anyone,” she pointed out.

  “Okay, maybe not. But Anna says you haven’t met up with her for drinks in over a month,” he added. She finally looked away from her clipboard.

  “You’ve been asking about me?” her voice was hard. He looked embarrassed and he rubbed at the back of his neck.

  “No. Kinda. Yeah, okay. I did. I saw you, the other weekend. With that guy,” he explained. Dulcie narrowed her eyes.

  “What weekend? What guy?”

  “I went into Fuller to see a movie,” he started. David’s job came with room and board at the club, and she knew he usually drove to the bigger town farther south for his fun and games, rather than the thirty minute drive to Fuller. “I saw you in the lobby, afterwards. I was gonna say hi, but you were with that guy. Y’know, the one everyone was geeking out over. Connie.”

  She almost laughed.

  “Yeah, okay, so I was at the movies with Connie. That gives you the right to ask about me to our coworkers?” she checked.

  “Okay! I’m a dick. I just wanted to know if you guys were dating. You seemed like you didn’t care when he was here, but then at the movie theatre, I don’t know, you looked … looked like you were together,” he tried to explain.

  Dulcie and Con went out often, and in very public places, but they were always careful to keep it platonic. They never kissed or touched while they were out and about, by a silent agreement. She wasn’t quite sure why that was; it’s just how they’d always acted, since he’d gotten back to town. It seemed safer if people didn’t know the two wolves in their midst were actually a couple. She felt like it gave them a sort of alibi, if it came down to it. They were just friends in everyone’s eyes.

  Friends who can’t stop sleeping together and don’t understand what kind of monster they’re becoming and maybe want to burn down the whole town. That kind of friends.

  “Look, David. You’re awesome. You’re ridiculously hot, and you’re funny and good at your job,” she assured him, and he smiled big. She didn’t. “But I never once lied to you about what would happen between us – I will never go out with you. My relationship with Constantine is none of your business, but since you want to know badly enough to invade my privacy, no, we’re not dating. We’ve never dated. But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever date you. Don’t ask about me again.”

  It wasn’t a lie. Con had never once asked her out on a date. She wasn’t sure she’d know what to do if he ever did. They were a match and jar of gasoline. Who wanted to waste time with dating when there were explosions to be had?

  She didn’t wait for him to respond, she just started walking away. The entrance to the restaurant had just been pushed open, and as she headed towards it, she recognized a figure standing out in the hall. She let out a sigh, then continued through the doorway.

  “Hey, Dulcie,” Jared said, his voice tired and soft. She smiled sweetly at him.

  “Hey. How are you? I didn’t know you guys were coming tonight, did you have a reservation?” she asked, heading over to the hostess station. He reached out and grabbed her elbow, halting her movements.

  “No, no reservations. It’s just me,” he told her.

  “Oh. Well, that’s nice, too. We open in about half an hour.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just … I wanted to talk to you.”

  She cocked her head to the side and tried to do her best impression of being confused, though really, her mind was racing. The house had been a disaster zone, but she and Con had looked over everything to make sure they hadn’t left any clues, that there weren’t any hidden nanny-cams or anything. Unless Fuller had an amazing CSI department, which she was confident they didn’t, there was no way the vandalism could be linked back to her.

  “Talk to me? About what?” she made sure to sound surprised.

  “I just really need someone to talk to.”

  Dulcie lead him to the end of the bar and got him seated before pouring him a stiff drink. She waved David away, then sat down as well.

  “What’s up?” she asked, crossing her legs and turning to face him.

  “You heard, right? What happened to us?” he checked. She managed a frown.

  “Yeah, yeah I did. Sounds awful. I heard there was a lot of smoke damage. Are you going to have to move?” she questioned him. He shook his head.

  “No, it’s mostly in the kitchen. Some dry wall repairs, a lot of clean up. But Frannie’s really … upset. She hasn’t been staying at home. It’s just me and little Amy,” Jared sighed.

  Dulcie wasn’t surprised at all. Once she’d had time to think about their little house party, she’d figured Frannie would shit a brick. Would pitch a fit. Be so pissed off, so angry, so secretly thrilled to have an excuse not to stay at home. More wheels were set into motion and Dulcie made sympathetic noises, nodding while Jared talked.

  “That’s really sad. I feel terrible for you, and I’m here if you need to talk, but I gotta be honest. We haven’t spoken a whole lot since high school, I’m surprised you even thought of me,” she chuckled a little. He downed the rest of his drink and Dulcie refilled it.

  “I know. I’ve actually been thinking about you a lot lately,” he confessed. Now she was for real surprised. Why was he thinking of her!?

  “Me? Why me?”

  “I just … I really liked you in high school. When we dated,” he was honest.

  “Aw, that’s really sweet. But that was years ago now, we were a lot younger. I was never the type of person you should’ve been dating. You needed to date a cheerleader,” she teased.

  “I did. Look where it got me.”

  “Even so, doesn’t mean we were meant to be.”

  “No, I know, but there was just something about you. Right after the house got trashed, we stayed in a bed and breakfast downtown. I went out for a jog one morning, just getting some air, and I saw you in the park. You were drawing something. You’re always drawing something,” he laughed a little.

  “You could’ve said hi.”

  “I didn’t want to bother you, and what would I say? Hey, chick I used to date but then treated awful but then still wanted but now hardly talk to, how are you? Nah, not exactly a good conversation opener. I kept jogging, and I was thinking about you and your sketchbook, and how you always had it with you in high school. How nothing bothered you. All you ever wanted to do was draw. It was like you were on another plane from the rest of us, nothing could touch you. Not Frannie and all the shit she used to give you, not our break up, nothing.

  “Then I got to wondering how you would feel if someone had done that to you, trashed your apartment. And I thought, Dulcie wouldn’t give a shit. She’d just clean up the mess and keep on drawing. Wouldn’t even let it disrupt her day. Who cares about material shit, when you’ve got a whole other world in your head you can live in?” he chuckled.

  Dulcie was a little stunned. She’d had no idea she’d come off like that in high school. She’d placed herself in the “dork” demographic. An art
geek. Not anyone worthy of looking up to or admiring. She’d been wallpaper. Or so she’d thought – apparently Jared had seen through all that, perilously close to the real Dulcie. Nothing had ever really bothered her, and nothing anyone said or did ever touched her. She hadn’t realized she was so transparent.

  I need to be very, very careful how I handle myself in public from now on.

  “Well, you’re right,” she laughed. “I wouldn’t care. Not much to bust up in my place, just a bed and a mini-fridge. They’re things, Jared. That’s how I think of it. Just things. So someone broke your shit, who cares? Just go out and replace it all.”

  “Yeah? And what about people? What do you think of them?” his voice was a raspy whisper, and she held herself still.

  “I think … I think sometimes they need to be replaced, too,” she spoke carefully. He didn’t lift his head, just nodded into his drink.

  Jared stayed the whole night. He got a little drunk, but not out of control, and after she shoved a plate of fries in front of him, he sobered up. He stuck to the bar for the first couple hours, chit chatting with people, and then their old high school gym coach came in to eat. They wound up sitting and laughing together. She supposed it was nice, in a way. Jared probably didn’t have a lot of opportunities to laugh anymore, and she’d definitely given him some more reasons to frown.

  But still, those wheels kept turning.

  They were the last to leave the restaurant, and it was eleven-thirty by the time she finally walked him to his car. He hadn’t had anything to drink for a couple hours and assured her he was good to drive. Then he shocked her by wrapping her in a big hug, squeezing her tight to him. She patted him on the back a couple times, then pushed him into his car.

  “Seriously,” she said, leaning into his window. “Any time you need to talk. About anything. Just to shoot the shit. I’m here for you.”

  “I should’ve been nicer to you, after school,” he grumbled, staring up at her. She gave him as big a smile as she could manage, and she watched him light up.