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Interview with the Bad Boy

Page 12

by Rylee Swann


  She shakes her head again, then opens her mouth to say something more. But I’m done with talking. She’s here, and I want her. Nothing is going to stop me from connecting our bodies together, as surely as our hearts and souls, our lives, are connected.

  “Cole—”

  I smother her words with my mouth, carrying her to the bedroom. I need to make her mine. I want her at my mercy, writhing in pleasure for me. Only me.

  The taste of Becca’s lips lingers on mine, so sweet. So good. I toss her onto my bed and kneel at the foot of it to tug off her shoes. Then her socks. Her face is flushed, her eyes wide. She doesn’t tell me to stop because she wants this too. I know she does. I can feel in the way she returned my kiss and in the way she clung to me when I picked her up.

  As I look up the line of her sexy body, her fingers trail to the waistband of her pants, and I see the surrender in her eyes. “Tell me what to do,” she murmurs.

  She drives me crazy. She knows how to pluck my strings. She knows I want all the control. Crave it. Need it. Just as I know she needs to release control to me.

  “Strip,” I command and watch her pupils dilate with passion. “Take it all off for me. Then get on your knees.”

  Becca

  I want to do exactly what he tells me. It’s a power he possesses. Cole issues a command, and I obey, despite my better judgment or misgivings. It isn’t because I don’t want it, I do. I want it desperately. It’s because I have something of grave importance to tell him.

  “Cole, we need to talk. I—”

  His eyes grow darker. “Later. Do what I say.”

  “But—”

  “Do I need to punish you?”

  Yes. Oh, please. Yes.

  Punishment. Pleasure. The words are intermingled in my mind when it comes to this man and all that he does to me.

  For a moment I think of Rob and his possible violation, then close my mind to it all. I need this. I want this. I want Cole to make me forget it all. Erase Rob from every part of my memory. Erase him from every part of my skin.

  Very slowly, I stand and push my yoga pants past my hips and down my legs. I kick them off and hook my fingers at the bottom of my sweater. It follows the pants to the floor, and all that is left is my panties and bra.

  Cole’s eyes don’t leave me, and the way they darken makes me feels so beautiful and sexy. He has this way of just looking at me that makes me feel like that. He doesn’t have to touch me or say a word.

  Reaching behind me, I unhook my bra and let the front fall away to expose part of my breasts before the straps fall down my arms and to the floor. Cole’s nostrils flare and his hands close into fists at his sides. He’s struggling not to touch me, I realize, and it makes me feel powerful. He makes me feel like the only woman in the world.

  I circle my hips slowly, and with the same deliberateness, I begin to peel down my panties. I want to tease him and drive him crazy. I can tell by the hungry look in his eyes that I’m doing just that. He licks his lips like I’m a delicious dessert he wants to consume.

  “You like putting on a show for me, don’t you?” he says, his voice rough.

  I nod as I sink to my knees. “Yes, I do.” My voice is breathy, and a blush of heat rises to my cheeks. I shiver. His room is a little cold, but my skin feels so hot. The contrast is delicious. He stands there for a long time, just looking down at me.

  “Good girl,” he finally says.

  Moving a step closer, he tugs the ponytail holder out of my hair and runs his hand through my tresses, nails lightly scratching over my scalp. It makes me shiver again. Then he grasps a handful at the base of my skull and tightens his grip. He leans down, pulling my face closer, his lips by my ear.

  “But it was very bad of you to leave this morning. I’m still going to have to punish you.”

  Every muscle in my body clenches deliciously at this news. I want this. I want to make it up to him. I know we’ll have a very unpleasant talk after this, but I’m going to ride or die now. Somehow, this feels free. Under his control, it allows me to be myself. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt like that before, or even thought it was possible.

  “Punish me,” I whisper, my eyes fluttering shut, my body trembling in anticipation.

  He releases his grip on my hair, tugs off his jeans and pulls off his shirt. When he’s fully naked, I can’t help but open my eyes to drink in his gorgeous body. The muscles are taut under his skin, sexy tattoos rippling from his forearms to his pecs. I want to run my tongue over his abs, taste his sweat. Every bit of him is chiseled perfection.

  I try not to remember why. The terrible drugs in his bathroom has honed his body into that of a beast.

  Before that thought invades my conscious too far, Cole’s hand is in my hair again, tugging, causing my heart to race. I love when he pulls my hair. He never makes it hurt, not really. The little sting at my scalp feels so good. He sits down on his bed and lays me over his lap. I’m breathing hard as Cole’s other hand massages my ass. He gives it a squeeze. Whimpering, I want more, but I know better than to ask. This is punishment, and Cole has all the power.

  His big hand comes down hard on my skin. I yelp in surprise. After the spank, he rubs the place he slapped, massaging away any pain. It stings, but it does something more than that. It makes me feel alive. I want more. It isn’t long before I get my wish. Cole spanks me again. And again, rubbing the stinging flesh with his rough palm between strikes.

  “You’re not going to leave me like that again, are you?” he asks, his voice rough with lust and emotion. I can feel him getting hard as I lay across his lap.

  “I won’t,” I say, gasping, squirming across his legs.

  With his hand in my hair, he pulls my head back. “Say it again. All of it.”

  “I won’t leave you like that again. I promise.”

  He growls and gives me another hard spank. “Good girl. I think you’ve been punished enough. For now.”

  As he rubs away the pain, his finger slides along the crack of my ass and then down to my pussy. I’m wet, so wet it’s almost embarrassing. I can’t hide how aroused Cole has made me. There is no running away from it.

  “So wet for me already,” he says as he slides his finger between my folds.

  He moves his finger in agonizingly slow circles. I try to buck my hips, but he gives my hair a sharp tug and tells me to be still. I do as I’m told, wanting to be a good girl, wanting my reward for behaving. He keeps his finger inside me, not pumping it, not moving it. Just teasing, playing with me. I pulse my internal muscles for a bit of friction, and he finally moves a finger over my clit. I moan and push against his fingers, already so very close to the edge. He doesn’t speed up, just continues to take his time, drawing slow, lazy circles over my clit until my thighs are trembling.

  “You want to come, don’t you?” he asks, stopping his delicious torture. “Who makes you come?”

  “You,” I nearly shout, breathless again.

  “That’s right. Only me.” His finger moves faster over my clit, and he starts pumping his other finger in and out, so very slowly. “But you can’t come yet.”

  I don’t know how I can keep from it. I’m so close, and every touch brings me all that much closer. But every time I whimper or moan, he stops. If I wiggle too much, he tightens his grip on my hair.

  “Please,” I beg. It’s the sweetest torture.

  “Please what?” Cole practically purrs. Clearly, he’s enjoying doing this to me.

  “I need to come.”

  He laughs, a deep rumbling sound. “You don’t get to yet. You haven’t earned it. Do you want to earn it?”

  I’d do anything right there and then. Anything he asks. “Yes, please.”

  He withdraws his hand and releases my hair. Cole takes me by the shoulders and makes me sit up on his lap. He moves my thighs until I straddle him, my ass pressing against his stomach. He reaches between our legs, and then the broad head of his cock parts the folds of my pussy.

  Cole doesn’t teas
e me now. He thrusts up into me in one smooth motion. He’s so big, so thick, I barely have a moment to get used to his size. I cry out, but he just pushes my legs farther apart.

  “Shit,” he says. “Fuck. Condom.”

  It feels so good to be skin to skin. “I’m on the pill,” I pant. I don’t want to think about the STD panel I had done earlier. The doctor found no trace of actual rape, and I’d never had sex without a condom before.

  “I’m clean,” he says, his hands tightening on my hips. “First time without a condom. Get tested monthly, but I’ll put one on if you want.”

  I don’t have to ask why he got tested so frequently. Cole Man-Whore James has more notches in his bedpost than most.

  I lean back against his chest, feel his lips in my hair. “So, we’re both skin-on-skin virgins. I kind of like that.”

  He growls and thrusts up and into me hard. One of his hands grasps my hip while the other goes to my breast. He pinches and tugs my nipple while he lifts me up and down on his cock. He forces me to ride him hard and fast, and at this angle, he’s hitting all the right places inside me.

  I catch the rhythm of our bodies and move with him, forcing our bodies together in a hard dance. His hand leaves my hip to move between my legs where he strokes my clit as I ride him. It’s less frantic now, our fucking. We move in time with each other, in perfect harmony. His lips and teeth are at my throat as I move closer to that edge again. This time, I’m going to tumble over it.

  As I ride him, slower and more deliberate, feeling every inch of his cock slide in and out of me, feeling his thumb circle my clit as he teases my nipple with little pinches and sharp tugs, I know I can’t last much longer without coming.

  “Please,” I whisper in a trembling voice. “Please let me come.”

  He makes another deep, growling sound, not yet giving me permission. Instead, his hand leaves my nipple and closes around my throat. He doesn’t cut off my air, but it’s a possessive grasp. His teeth tug at my earlobe and then his lips are against my ear. “Come for me, baby,” he says, his voice a deep, rumbling sound that I can feel vibrate from his chest against my back.

  That’s all he needs to say. I come, writhing over him. Both hands on my hips, he moves me, manipulating me as my back arches. He’s getting his pleasure now, using my body. I want him to. I want him to come inside of me, fill me up.

  My orgasm squeezes his cock, and I know it must be almost painfully tight because of the new sounds he makes. He pushes me down and holds me there as he moans in my ear. When he comes, I can feel it, feel every pulse of his orgasm. I can feel his hot, thick cum fill my pussy. Cole holds me there, pushing up harder into me, holding me down on his dick, his breath hot and wet against my shoulder, for a long time.

  Then it’s over, and cold reality starts to seep in as we both catch our breaths. He helps me off his lap, and we lay down on his bed, and he holds me against his chest, stroking my hair. He kisses my forehead and is so gentle it makes me ache.

  I want to wait to tell him about the story. I want this beautiful, tender moment between us to last forever. But I have to be honest with him. I have to tell him now. And when I do, I’m afraid that what we have will be over for good. Over too soon. Over before it had a chance to start.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Cole

  It’s bliss. Holding Becca against me after making love is all I want. It drives all the hurt and rage away, leaving only her soft body in my arms. It’s better than any drug. And now I know that no matter how much I tell myself that I’m done with women and that I don’t want a relationship, there is no avoiding it with her now. I have to tell her how I feel. I just hope she feels the same way.

  Before I can open my mouth, she looks up at me, her face troubled. “Cole?”

  I don’t like her tone. It sounds sad. Like an ending instead of a beginning. I just know that whatever comes out of her mouth next is going to hurt. Really bad. “Yeah?”

  “I have to tell you something.” Already the tears are starting. I pull back so I can see her face better but keep my arms around her. It feels like hugging a live grenade. The woman in my arms is going to tear me to shreds.

  I don’t say anything. I just wait for the bomb to drop.

  She can’t look me in the eye anymore, but she continues to talk. “I found the drugs in the bathroom. That’s why I left this morning without saying anything. I thought about that a lot when I got home and how it was wrong for me to just leave. If you have a problem, I want to help you with it any way I can. I...” She swallows, the thick emotion causing her throat to make a clicking sound. “My dad was an addict. He left me and my mom when I was ten. He died when I was sixteen. An overdose. I guess I just panicked when I saw the syringes. I didn’t understand and couldn’t face it, so I ran. I was so scared and… hurt.”

  I take in a deep breath. I should have told her from the start. I kiss her forehead and hold her close again. “It’s okay. I get it. I was in a bad place when I started them last year. Was going to lose my place on the team. At first, it was only supposed to be a boost, you know? Some guys on my team got me into it.” It all feels like a bunch of stupid excuses. I can’t blame her if she thinks so too.

  She just nods, her hand on my chest. “I was really upset. I—”

  “I get it, Becca. I understand why you left and I’m glad you came back to tell me how you feel.”

  She stiffens. Instead of being reassured that I’m not angry, something inside of her just grows tighter. “That’s not all. I…”

  She doesn’t finish, and I can tell this is going to be bad. I can feel it. It’s a living, writhing entity between us. I’m not sure how yet, but she’s going to say something that will tear the whole thing apart before it even gets a chance to get off the ground. I can feel it hurt already. My chest grows tight with dread.

  “I called my editor and told him I wasn’t going to do the story. He…” She shudders, and I hold her tighter. “He came to my apartment to talk about it. I didn’t know he was going to come over. He’s my ex. My ex-boyfriend, so he knew where I lived. He…” She’s talking fast now, the words spilling from her mouth. “I think he may have drugged me because I became really sleepy. He…”

  Fuck.

  “He drugged you?” I lift her chin until she looks at me. “You mean gave you some kind of date rape drug?” My heart squeezes in my chest, then begins hammering with rage. “Becca… did he…” Fuck. “Did he hurt you?”

  She shakes her head, but hot tears fall on my chest. “My friend Mia made me go to the hospital, get my blood tested for a drug, but it will be a day or two before they know if there’s anything in my system. They did a rape kit, and…” she takes a deep breath, “they couldn’t tell if he, you know, raped me.”

  Rage is the first emotion, but it’s soon followed by horror. I sit up and thrust all ten fingers through my hair, pulling at the roots. “Becca, shit. Why didn’t you tell me before I…? I’d never have… forced you. Shit. God, Becca, I’m so sorry. So damn sorry.”

  She grabs my arm, pulls my hand away from my hair. She holds it to her chest, and I feel her heart thudding against it. “Cole, you didn’t force me. I wanted it. Wanted you. You made me forget. Wiped all that away for a while.” Her voice is pleading for me to understand, and I make myself take a deep breath. This isn’t about me and my feelings. This is about her. Becca. I need to keep my shit together for her.

  Very slowly, I lay back down and she nestles onto my chest again. My pulse is pounding in my temples, and all I want to do is hit something. I don’t. I need to stay calm for her. For my Becca.

  “The hospital didn’t find any evidence,” she continues after a while, when both of our breathing is back to normal. “And I don’t think he did. I don’t know why he drugged me, if that turns out to be what he did. I don’t know what his intentions were.” She wipes at her face. “I just don’t know, but I don’t feel like I was, um, violated.”

  “I hope he didn’t, but you need to know t
hat none of it is your fault. Don’t allow anything that asshole did or didn’t do make you think otherwise.”

  She stiffens beside me, her nails biting into my skin. There’s more. I feel it coming. Feel it vibrating in the air between us.

  “Cole, there’s more. While I was passed out, Rob got onto my computer. He read my journal. Read my research on the drugs I found in your drawer.” Her nails dig into my chest. “I’d written down everything. All my thoughts. What I found. Everything.”

  I close my eyes. Damn.

  “There’s an article, a special edition in the school paper. He… god. Rob printed what he read, what I wrote. I’m so sorry.” She takes in a deep breath. Her head is tucked under my chin so I can’t see her face, but her voice sounds so sad. “I’m so very, very sorry.”

  It’s worse than I expected. When she first started talking, I thought she was going to tell me that she fucked him. Sure, I would have been pissed off and hurt, but I could forgive that. We aren’t official. It’s understandable. Hell, if I’d stumbled onto a hot young thing today, I’d most likely have fucked her if I’d had the chance.

  “So, your ex-boyfriend wrote that I take steroids in the school paper,” I repeat to make absolutely sure I understand everything she just told me. My voice is flat. I feel numb and hollowed out on the inside.

  “Yeah,” she says softly. “I didn’t think… he was that type of person. He didn’t even put in a byline. He didn’t even claim that he wrote the story. I think he’s jealous. And I think he wants you to believe I wrote it. That I’d do that to you.” Becca pulls back now so she can look up at me. Her face is wet with tears. “I wouldn’t. I would never have done that, and I’m so sorry that your secret has been exposed like this.”

  I nod, but in truth, I can’t feel anything. Not yet. I’m sure I will later. Tomorrow. When I have to face these accusations in the light of day. “I know,” I say. But I don’t fucking know. My rational mind knows what kind of woman Becca is. She takes her work at the paper very seriously. She takes everything seriously. But the illogical, angry, jealous part of me is already waging war in my mind. That part of me wants to explode from this bed and scream at the top of my lungs. I don’t need this shit. I just don’t need any of it.

 

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