Bad Wolf

by Jackie Sexton

  I laughed. Suddenly, the sadness inside of me quelled, lapping like small ocean ripples on the shoreline instead of the monstrous waves it was before. “I don’t know if it’s really the same thing.”

  His face grew suddenly serious, his gray eyes storming over like thunder clouds, beautiful, but severe. He took my hand into his, the calluses on his fingers sending chills throughout my body. “I’m sorry, Bailey. I really am. I know I should have told you before, but you’re one of the closest people to me in this whole crazy world. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

  The earnestness on his face seared through me. I could feel all the ripples of our past hanging in the air between us. I could see every pepperoni he ever peeled off a slice of pizza and hear every chide he ever uttered as I recapped for him my favorite moments of reality TV. There were all the reassurances in moments of despair, when my dad left, when he dropped out of college, the tears staining through the fronts of our shirts and the hugs that were more than a little too long. We were more than friends—we were connected on another level. Even if I was too scared to admit it.

  “I couldn’t stay mad at you if I tried,” I laughed. “And it’s going to take a lot more than your weird canine condition to get me to stop talking to you.”

  ‘Or loving you,’ I thought.

  Rain fell down from the night sky, hitting my skin in cool, refreshing drops. I laughed, looking up and opening my palms to greet the invigorating shower. We both loved the rain. It was part of our unspoken bond. When we were little, we’d run around in it pretending we were planes lost in a stormy sky, or pirates battling the high seas.

  He smiled, the left side of his mouth rising higher than the right, revealing the adorable dimple that only showed itself in times of true happiness. It was strange how I knew the peeks and valleys of his face much better than my own, but it was also comforting. I smiled back, hoping my joy didn’t reveal my more than platonic feelings.

  “Just don’t go attacking me at parties anymore,” I teased.

  “Oh God Bailey, I’m so sorry about that. I’ll seriously never forgive myself for it. I just…things got out of control last night. I wasn’t…in a good place. And from now on, when it’s a full moon I’m going to keep my distance, just in case.”

  “Do you not transform all the time?” I asked.

  “Well, I usually need to transform at some point in the night, but I can generally control it for a few hours before it gets to be too much. I guess you never noticed how I was always busy during the full moon in high school, huh?” he laughed.

  “I mean, I remember you being flaky once and a while…I don’t really pay much attention to the moon phases,” I grinned.

  “Most people don’t. It’s a pretty strange thing to be thinking about unless you’re like, an astronomer or…you know. Me.” His lopsided grin was so adorable. It was hard to hold the scratches underneath my camisole against him.

  “Yeah, well,” I said. “I’m not really as mad at you about keeping the secret anyway…I kind of understand why. I mean, I’m not sure how much of it I believe—”

  “I can’t blame you,” he interjected. The rain was starting to pour harder now, forging clear grooves down the front of his shirt. I gulped, forcing myself to keep my gaze trained on his face.

  “But I am still kind of miffed that you reacted so terribly to the whole thing with Aamir.”

  He stiffened. I took a deep breath, realizing how much I needed him to understand me. If he kept disapproving, I would confuse it with jealousy. I would lie to myself and see more to our relationship than there ever was.

  “I’m confused and not in the best place right now, all the weird paranormal stuff aside. This is the first time I’ve felt…so good about someone in a long time. I know you get overprotective, but I need you to see things from my point of view. I need you to want me to be happy.”

  He looked away at the couple still cooing over each other in parking lot. He sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I want you to be happy,” he gave me a weak smile. “I just want it to be with someone who’s good enough for you.”

  I could die right there, he was being that cute.

  “That’s really sweet of you. But I think anything’s better than Jason.”

  “I would agree except…well, there’s something I haven’t told you yet, Bailey. It’s about Aamir.”

  I paused, taking in a sharp inhale. I had a terrible feeling my suspicions about his connection with this whole other world were about to be confirmed. “What about him?”

  “That night at the party…most people don’t just come after wolves. That’s just not normal. He isn’t Bear Grylls or anything. And then after that whole thing today…I just feel like he’s after us for some reason.”

  I didn’t want to admit that it made sense. I didn’t want to think that the beautiful boy who was so sweet and kept texting me and looked at my large body and saw something incredible was just using me to get to my wolf friends.

  But at the moment, it seemed very likely.

  “Crap,” I muttered.

  “I know,” he said, giving me a sympathetic look. “And another thing…about that song.”

  “What song?” my voice raised a few pitches. I knew exactly what song.

  “Just now…” his face changed, his eyes turning soft again, but knowing, like he could see right through me. I shivered, feeling vulnerable in the moments between his words.

  In one sweeping movement, he leaned down, stealing my breath away. The press of his lips against mine, the heat mingling with the cool raindrops, ignited TNT in my stomach. They fit perfectly together, one lip stacked on top of the other, and I swear the world faded away from me as his hands came up to my face, holding me in that soft, wonderful way I was sure I’d never experience. Every nerve, every iota of feeling inside of me burst, and I came alive in a way I’d never felt before.

  And he was engaged. And my best friend.

  And I couldn’t lose him.

  I pulled away, tearing my face from his hands and looked down at my keds, now smeared with dirt. “I…you misunderstood me. I don’t see you that way.”

  “Bailey…it’s okay, I’m not going to—”

  “I love you a lot, but I just see you like a brother,” I said, snapping my eyes up past him so that he might not see the truth in my eyes. It was almost easy to say it. It was at least partially true. I did love him, and he was always calling me his little sister.

  Besides, I had to stay strong, even if my heart was breaking into tiny fragments and falling into my stomach. He fell in and out of love with girls too easily. I couldn’t let one be me.

  I wasn’t strong enough for that.

  ‘Besides, what makes you think he’d break up with her for you?’

  I cringed.

  “Oh, I see,” he said, his voice filled with hurt. “I’m sorry I kissed you then.”

  “It’s alright,” I replied, even though it was the most wonderful kiss of my life. But he couldn’t know that. He’d break me down with that knowledge and not even mean to.

  We stood in a terrible, excruciating silence, the passing cars and kissing lovers filling the night air between us. The rain came down in torrents, pounding down in relentless sheets so that I could hardly see in front of me.

  It was painful to be like this, in denial.

  “It’s getting bad. We should go in,” he said, his soft voice nearly drowned out by the sound of heavy rain on pavement.

  “I will, just give me a minute,” I said, finally looking up at him, only to shoot my eyes back down at the floor. He was just too beautiful, and his sadness was destroying me. I didn’t know how we were going to make it past this, but I knew it couldn’t be any worse than the alternative. At least this way we had a chance.

  “Alright,” he said before walking off towards the bar door without the slightest hesitation. It hurt, to see him walk away so easily. To not even put up a fight.

  ‘What’s wrong with you? Isn’t this wha
t you wanted?’ I thought as I took cover under the building’s eaves. But I knew if it was so easy for him to walk away then at least I hadn’t made a mistake. He was just being a romantic again. He was unhappy with his relationship and projecting his feelings onto me.

  I began shaking, and fought back the hot tears welling up in my eyes. How pathetic was I? This girl in a drenched cardigan with her hair in her face, crying outside of a dive bar.

  I was crying so much recently, behaving in irrational ways that just weren’t characteristic of me. I was supposed to be in charge. I was the one with the good head on her shoulders.

  At least, that’s what Jason would tell me.

  “God, fuck Jason,” I muttered, wiping away the tears with the sleeve of my cardigan. My face just got wetter as a result. I gave out a mirthless laugh. I pulled out my phone and called Sierra. After a few rings, she finally answered.

  “Hello?” she said.

  “Hey.”

  “What’s up?” her voice sounded flat, like she was preoccupied.

  “If this isn’t a good time—”

  “No it’s fine,” she snapped.

  “Okay…it’s just…God there’s so much to tell you, and some of it I don’t even think I can tell you—”

  She mumbled something I couldn’t make out.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” “Oh…okay, well, I just…I hooked up with this guy from another band and he’s gorgeous, and I can’t tell if he’s just using me, but then Trent just kissed me but I feel like he’s just confused and I have no idea what to do,” I babbled, my shaking subsiding as I finally let it out. It was the relief that came with simile

  “Just fuck Trent then,” she said. It was so uncharacteristic of her that it took me aback. She was always telling me that we were the loves of each other lives, or whatever.

  “Just go fuck him. You can’t trust the other guy, right?”

  “Yeah but…”

  “You only live once. Do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering if you passed something amazing up?”

  “Oh. I guess you’re right.” I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that. But she had a point. It was all just too confusing.

  “So how have you be—”

  “I think I’m going to bed. Call me tomorrow or something.” “Oh…okay. You still coming to Atlanta?” “Probably,” she said, sounding cold and distant. I didn’t want to press it further, she sounded like she had a bad day.

  “Alright, talk to you later,” I said, figuring she had some annoying art deadline or something. She hung up without so much as a bye.

  “Maybe she’s right,” I muttered to myself, taking a breath before marching back into the hazy bar. Still, I couldn’t help but feel hurt by our strange interaction. I ordered another two shots and threw them back one after the other, wincing as the liquid burned my throat and nostrils. I was about to march over to our table when I saw Trent was seated on a barstool a few seats down from me.

  “Hey,” I called out as the alcohol caressed my chest.

  “Oh, hey,” he said, turning his head and giving me a weak smile.

  “I need to tell you something,” I said loudly, hoping he would hear me over the cluster of karaoke bros singing Journey onstage. He turned his gaze on me, his eyes locking with mine.

  He looked like someone had just died.

  “So tell me something,” he said, his loud voice clear over the thudding blare of rock music. I hesitated.

  “I’d rather talk in the van.” He nodded slowly, as if wary of my suggestion. I felt a pang of guilt at the look. I stood up and he followed, throwing back the rest of his whiskey as he shadowed me out of the bar. The couple was gone. I could hear nothing but the sound of my own pounding heart and the occasional car speeding by. I opened the back door of the van with my spare set of keys, not sparing him a glance as I crawled in. I felt his weight load into the car, and I knew he was close behind me.

  “So,” he said. I turned to see the outline of his face in the moonlight. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

  I froze as he shut the door behind him with a loud bang. What had I wanted to talk to him about?

  “Um…” the buzz of alcohol gripped me, numbing any reasonable thought in my mind. His face became clearer as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, taking in the hard line of his cut jaw, the dangerous trail of stubble, the steep whorl of black under his tired eyes. It was easy to forget sometimes how much of a bad boy he looked like. My mouth began to water at the thought of taking his strong lips back into mine.

  So I did. I jumped on him, recklessly, like an eager cougar on its prey. Our bodies collided and I heard his head smack against the metal van door, but only faintly, distantly. I was too engaged with the curl of his strong lips against mine, teasing me with the hint of warmth hovering between us. I crushed my body into his, pressing my breasts against his hard chest. He reached his hands around my waist, placing them in the delicate curve of negative space.

  A thrill of electricity flew through my body at his touch, and I couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped my lips before I pressed my tongue into his mouth, searching desperately for the words he had said earlier in the wet, warm crevices.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered, pulling away for a gasp of air.

  “I want you,” I murmured, my hands trembling against his shoulders. I raised them to caress the sides of his thick neck, and I buried my face into the dip just below his chin. I didn’t want to see his face, didn’t want to face the consequences of the boundary I had just crossed.

  “Don’t play with me Bailey,” he said. His voice verged on severe, but cut down with a register of hope.

  “I’m not,” I said, a thrill of delight shooting between my legs as I felt a growing bulge greet it. It was the mystery of Trent’s sexuality finding its way into my own. Like a rare tropical bird of paradise, I knew it existed, but its presence still shocked and excited me.

  “I want you,” I muttered into his throat, eager to explore the mysteries of his body. I moved downwards, prodding my fingers against the ridges of his hard chest and stomach, for the first time having free reign over the terrain I had only explored in hugs and other platonic gestures. I felt his muscles pull with a shudder as my hands moved over him, and his reaction rocked me with a jolt of pleasure.

  “I mean it, Bailey,” he warned. Something about the tender trill in his voice made me want him more. I wanted to dominate him, to make him want me. I wanted to do things to him he didn’t know were possible.

  I shivered, moving my mouth over a sliver of his skin peaking just above the line of his jeans. I moved my tongue gently over the hard stretch of flesh, catching the few stray hairs of his happy trail in my sensual kisses. He groaned, and I snapped my eyes open, a new ferocity growing, forcing me to grip his hips and tug at the zipper and undo the button, opening the folds of his denim and releasing the bulge. I groped the impressive size of it in my hands, radiating with warmth. I held my mouth over the bulge, caressing the cloth of his boxers with my breath.

  “Bailey, I don’t think—”

  “Shhh,” I said, not wanting to listen to reason. This is what Sierra was talking about.

  ‘You only live once,’ I reminded myself.

  I moved my fingers over the band of his boxers, prying them down slowly, until the elastic band caught on his erection, creating a tent just beneath my watering mouth.

  ‘If I could only taste it,’ I thought, the delicious notion filling me with a wild desire. It was strange, feeling this way. I wasn’t one to go crazy over fellatio. Or jumping my best friend’s bones.

  But it was all happening so fast, in a whirl of desire and emotion, that I had no chance against the freight train of yearning that was pummeling through me. Neither did Trent, because as soon as I pulled the fabric over his member, releasing it out into the air as my fingers grazed just the tip, I heard him exhale sharply, desperately. I looked up to see his eyes fluttering shut
, and I moved the back of my hand over him, teasing the length of his joystick with my nails.

  ‘It’s so huge,’ I thought, taking the tip into my hand.

  “Bailey,” he groaned. Hearing my name on his lips, in that way, the way I didn’t think he was capable of, not with me, was all I needed. I moved my mouth down over his head, taking in the sharp smell of skin and salt, the softness of his manhood greeting my salivating mouth. A dizzying flash blinded me for a moment as heat struck me, rolled through me and took me for its prisoner. I gasped before pushing my mouth further down onto him, the sweet slurping sound caressing my ears as my tongue slid down the velvety softness.

  I thought I might explode with the savage ache that was welling up inside of me, lasciviously pounding away in my veins, growing as I bobbed up to greet a hint of his saltiness, salacious and hot as it moved down my throat.

  “Oh God,” he called out to the ceiling of the van. My slutty side came back with full force, moaning against his turgid joystick, relishing in the reverberations that filled my throat. His body shifted beneath me, and he brought his torso up so that he could stroke my head with his hands, tangling his long fingers into my hair.

  “What are you doing to me,” he muttered, his heavy lids battling to stay open. I rolled my tongue over him, steadily increasing the tempo of my seesawing head, pressing my bottom lip hard against his expanding member. My only regret at the moment was that I couldn’t take all of him, roll him into a ball and put him inside of me, an offering to the insatiable greed in the pit of my stomach.

  His hips spazzed, jerking upwards involuntarily, and his tip slammed against the back of my throat. I coughed out in surprise. It was hot feeling him there, so deep inside of me.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “Don’t be,” I said, moving back over him and gripping his sinuous thighs, encouraging him with small tugs to thrust back into me.

  “But—”

  “I won’t break,” I hissed, gripping him more forcefully. My heart was beating loudly now, pounding my ears as the flutter of nerves broke through the liquor and returned to me, reminding me of what I was doing.