Bad Intentions (Bad Love)

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Bad Intentions (Bad Love) Page 17

by Charleigh Rose


  “I don’t want to come in your pussy this time,” he explains, dragging the head of his cock through my lips and back toward my other hole. He nudges against my ass, rubbing and circling but never fully penetrating. I should be nervous at what I know is about to happen. I’ve never done this. But Dare has a way of making everything feel good, even when it’s outside my comfort zone.

  Dare leans over, covering my back with his front. He bites my shoulder hard enough that I know I’ll have a mark tomorrow before asking, “Has anyone fucked your ass before?” His voice is strained in my ear.

  “No,” I breathe.

  “Tell me I can take it. Tell me I can be the first.”

  “Take it,” I all but beg, pushing onto him again.

  Dare’s weight is gone as he stands behind me once more, haphazardly digging four fingers into the jar before lubing me up some more. I look behind me to see him using the excess to coat his cock before he’s pushing against the tight ring. I lock up, not expecting the sharp sting, but Dare soothes me, rubbing my back and thighs, coaxing me to loosen up.

  “Relax, baby,” he says before nibbling on my shoulder, softer this time. He snakes a hand in between my legs, playing with my clit as he starts to move again. I melt into his touch, his pretty words. Slowly, so slowly, he nudges inside. I feel the moment he pushes past the tight muscle, and I slump forward on the counter in relief.

  “I feel so full.”

  Dare groans at my admission, pumping his hips a little faster after giving me a minute to adjust. I half-moan, half-whine at the feeling. “Play with your pussy,” he instructs as his hands move back to spread my ass. I look over my shoulder once more, watching him as he watches himself move inside me. His lean abs flex with each thrust and I do as he says, rubbing my clit. The heady mixture of pain and pleasure is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

  Soon, he’s fucking me just as hard as he would my pussy, and my whole body is vibrating, shaking with the sensations running through me. I feel drugged, completely out of my mind. My body is on sensory overload. Over-stimulated to the point that tears stream down my cheeks.

  Dare pulls my back to his front, arms wrapping around me as he ruts into me, his hips slapping against my ass that’s still half-covered by my ripped leggings. One arm dips down to cup me between the legs while his other arm wraps around my neck.

  “Fuck my hand while I fuck your ass,” Dare rasps into my ear. “Come for me, Lo.”

  His words send me over the edge as I grind against his hand while he fucks up into me without remorse.

  “I’m coming,” I cry, holding his hand in place while I ride it. He curls two fingers inside me, hitting a spot that makes my eyes roll back as I spasm around him.

  “Fuck,” Dare grinds out. “Your ass is squeezing me so hard.”

  I slump forward with my cheek pressed onto the cold granite countertop, my palms flat against the smooth surface. Dare’s hands come over the tops of mine, folding his fingers between my own as he gives two more powerful strokes. I feel the moment he spills inside me, and then he’s sinking against me, kissing the notches in my spine before he slowly pulls out of my spent body.

  We’re depleted and sweaty, lying on top of Dare’s couch as he traces his fingertips up and down my side. He’s on his side behind me, head propped on his hand, my ripped leggings and the rest of our clothes strewn all over the floor.

  “I love tickles,” I say sleepily, as goosebumps pepper my skin.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asks. I’m raw and sore, but I’m still in a state of euphoria, I think.

  “A little,” I say, downplaying it. “But I liked it.”

  That same dark look flashes in his eyes again. “I didn’t mean to lose control.”

  I roll toward him, my eyebrows cinched together in confusion. Our noses are almost touching with how close we are. “What are you talking about? You didn’t. I literally asked for it.”

  He looks away, clenching his jaw, but I flatten my palm against his cheek, forcing him to look at me. His stubbled jaw scratches against my skin, and it dawns on me that I get to touch him like this, when no one else does. It’s a thrilling thought, as weird as that may seem.

  “Talk to me. You know all my shit.” Dare opened up about his past, but I suspect there’s still more.

  “I told you my shit,” he bites back, and I flinch, taken aback by his tone. His eyes soften at my reaction, and he grabs the back of my head, pulling me under his chin. My cheek is pressed against his chest, and I inhale deeply. I could drown in his piney scent.

  “I was an angry kid, and an even angrier teenager,” he starts. I wonder if it’s easier for him to talk this way—with me tucked into his chest rather than looking me in the eye. “I had anger management issues. Abandonment issues. Authority issues,” he ticks off. “Basically, every issue. Self-control was always my weak point. I fucked shit up, and I fought. A lot.” He takes a deep breath, and I hear the steady beat of his heart against my ear. I don’t respond. I’m not the best at this whole feeling-sharing thing either, so I stay silent, waiting for him to continue.

  “When I was sixteen, I almost went to prison. I’ve spent the last ten years making sure I’m not that kid anymore.”

  “That’s it?” I say, tilting my head back far enough to meet those eyes that are bluer than water that this town is so well-known for. “You almost went to prison?”

  Dare looks at me questioningly. “I was a fucking monster. Is that not enough for you?” There’s no heat behind his words. He states them as a fact. As if he were merely commenting on the weather.

  “You didn’t actually go, though? Did you at least get to wear handcuffs? Or sit in the back of a cop car?”

  “That, I have done,” he says, the corners of his lip tugging into an almost smile.

  “Meh,” I tease, unimpressed. “You’re still behind most of the people I grew up with.” So, he has a temper. Big deal. Show me a kid who’s been through half the shit he’s gone through who doesn’t have anger issues.

  “I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth,” Dare muses.

  “I don’t care about your past,” I say truthfully, because, you know, glass houses and all that. I’m not exactly in a position to judge.

  I’m blissfully drifting to sleep when I hear my phone buzzing from the inside of my purse. I groan and start to sit up, but Dare stops me with a hand on my shoulder.

  “Where is it?” he asks. I point toward the door.

  “In my purse.”

  Dare squats to pick it up. “Got enough shit in here?” he asks, rummaging through my bag. “Found it.” He pulls my phone out triumphantly, walking back toward me. It stops buzzing but starts again by the time it’s in my hands. Jess’ name flashes across the screen.

  “Hey,” I say. “How was practice?”

  “Fine. Listen, don’t come home.”

  “What?” I sit up so quickly, I almost crack heads with Dare. My heart threatens to pound out of my chest because I know, I just know, something isn’t right. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m fine. But I’m looking out the blinds right now, and either I’m super fucking baked or Eric is parked across the street. I think it’s both.”

  Fuck. I didn’t even give him a heads-up because I thought for sure Eric would’ve given it up by now.

  “I’m gonna go outside and have a little chat with him. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t on your way home.”

  “I’m at Dare’s, but Jesse, do not go out there. I don’t know what the fuck Eric’s thinking.”

  Upon hearing Eric’s name, Dare stands and practically runs up the stairs.

  “I’ve been waiting a minute to fuck this fool up,” Jess says, sounding almost excited. I shake my head, knowing that Stubborn Jesse does whatever the hell he wants. Always has, always will.

  Dare flies back downstairs in black sweats and a long-sleeved black shirt. He swipes his keys out of the pile of shit we left at the door in our haste, then throws h
is boots on.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Tell him to stay inside till I get there.”

  “Goddammit, Dare! I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

  “The fuck you don’t. Stay here,” he says, and then he’s gone, the door slamming behind him. I drop the phone, scrambling to find my clothes, but my leggings are ripped and full of cum. By the time I throw Dare’s T-shirt on, he’s already peeling out of his driveway.

  “Fuck!” I kick the side of his couch.

  “Lo!”

  Shit. Jesse. I pick the phone back up, bringing it to my ear.

  “Dare’s coming.”

  “Oh, goodie. Two against one. This should be fun.”

  “Please don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Who, me? Never.”

  I can hear the smirk in his voice, and it does nothing to calm my nerves. He hangs up without another word. I try to call Dare, for the first time ever, but it goes straight to voicemail. I clasp my phone between both hands, bringing them to rest under my chin as I pace the living room floor.

  This night is never-ending.

  * * *

  THIS MOTHERFUCKER. I THOUGHT ERIC would have taken the hint, but clearly, he needs a little more convincing. I try to calm myself on the way to Henry’s, taking deep breaths, not wanting to lose control like I did last time.

  But is it really so bad to protect the people I care about? Because I do. Care about Lo, that is. She’s wormed her way through the frozen cracks, and she’s been slowly melting the ice inside me ever since.

  I flip on my brights when I pull onto their street. I see Jess on one side of the road, a cigarette dangling from his lips, casually holding a baseball bat in his right hand. Eric is outside of his Range Rover with his arms folded across his suit-covered chest. Douche.

  I swing into the driveway and jump out, leaving the truck running. This won’t take long. I walk up to stand next to Jess. “What is this, the fucking Wild Wild West? Are we about to have a shootout?”

  “I’m just waiting for this pussy to step foot on Henry’s property,” he says, flicking his chin in Eric’s direction. He looks over to me, lowering his voice. “I promised Lo I’d be good.” He shrugs. “But if he steps to me, it’s fair game.”

  Cutting the bullshit, I walk over to Eric.

  “Well, if it isn’t Logan’s knight in shitty tattoos, here to save the day.” His face is still busted up from the other day, and I get more satisfaction than I should from the sight of him.

  “Did you come here for a reason, or were you just planning to stand outside her house like a fucking creep?”

  “I came to talk to Logan. I’m simply waiting until she gets home.”

  I suck my teeth before saying, “Well, you’ll be waiting a while. She won’t be coming home tonight.”

  Eric huffs out a laugh. “Let me guess. She’s staying at your trailer tonight.”

  “Yeah. Something like that.”

  Eric’s eyes narrow, probably pissed that he missed the mark in his attempt to insult me. I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone thinks about me, especially this asshole. He leans in closely, but I don’t back away. This guy is used to intimidating people. He’s not getting that from me.

  “She tastes sweet, doesn’t she?” He inhales deeply, closing his eyes like he’s reliving a fond memory.

  My fists clench at my sides, but, still, I don’t react. Don’t even respond.

  “You should have her do that thing with her tong—”

  I bob my head in a nod as if to say, okay, we’re gonna do this? striding away before he’s even finished his sentence. He laughs, thinking he won. Jess knows my plan, though, because he casually hands me the bat once I’m within arm’s reach. The look on his face tells me that if I didn’t do something, he would. I turn back for Eric, and I see the moment the fear finally sets in.

  “What, regular old assault isn’t enough? You’re going to add aggravated assault to the list?”

  I don’t answer him. I’m completely calm on the outside, even though I’m raging inside, fucking dying to bust his head open. Once he realizes I’m not bluffing, he jumps out of the way. But I’m not going for him. I’m aiming for that shiny Range Rover behind him.

  I hit one headlight first, then my bat cracks against the other.

  “What the fuck!”

  I go for the hood next, gripping the bat with both hands, swinging it straight down.

  “Okay. Okay! I get it. You’re a tough guy. You’ve made your point,” he yells, holding both hands out in front of him.

  “See, I don’t think I have. I’m just getting started,” I say between hits, and I hear Jess laughing behind me.

  “You’re psychotic.”

  “That’s what they tell me.” Heard a lot over the years.

  I bash his side mirror off next, and it falls to the pavement with a satisfying crunch. Once I go for the windshield, Eric rushes to the driver’s side. It takes a good two or three hits before I’m able to bust through the tempered glass, but it finally gives right as he starts the engine, sending glass all over him and the seats. He hits the gas and speeds off down the street, sans headlights.

  I walk back over to Jess and hand him the bat. “That was fun.”

  “And I didn’t even have to get my hands dirty. Now Lo won’t chew my ass out.”

  “I might not be so lucky.”

  Jess laughs.

  “Can I use your phone?” I ask, knowing Lo is probably out of her mind at this point, worrying about Jesse. My phone is dead and forgotten in a pocket somewhere at home.

  Jess looks at me, assessing, before flicking his cigarette to the ground. “Sure. It’s inside.”

  I follow him inside. The first thing I notice is that it’s pitch-black, the only light coming from the flickering of a candle that sits on top of the coffee table. The second thing I notice is the fact that somehow, it feels even colder inside than it does outside.

  Jesse retrieves his phone from the couch and hands it to me before sprawling out, folding his arms behind his head like this is his normal. And fuck, I can’t help but see myself in him. How many times was I without heat or electricity…or food for that matter? How long have they been living like this?

  I walk into the kitchen, checking the top of the fridge and the junk drawer, until I find what I’m looking for, stuffing it into the back of my sweats.

  “Let’s go,” I say, dropping his phone back on his lap.

  “Where?”

  “My house.”

  “Nah, man. It’s late and this wrestling shit has me beat.”

  “Does your sister know the power’s out?”

  Jess shrugs. “No idea.”

  He isn’t like most high school kids—that much is clear—but he’s still just that. A kid. He wants a warm bed and a hot meal, but he won’t say that shit. I know this because I was this kid. Too stubborn to ask. Too proud to take a handout. And that’s exactly why I won’t leave him here. I just need to present it in a way that doesn’t resemble pity.

  “Your sister’s pretty freaked out. I’m sure she wants to see that you’re okay.”

  He’s not dumb. He knows my angle. But he nods anyway, taking the out I offered, grabbing his backpack from the floor before stuffing a sweatshirt inside.

  “I’ve gotta stop and get some gas.”

  “Ride with me. I’ll drop you off at school tomorrow. I have to come back this way anyway.”

  Wordlessly, Jess walks over to the door and picks up his board, sticking it underneath his arm.

  Once we’re in the truck, we don’t speak. Both too fucking tired to force conversation just for the sake of it. Jess stuffs his earbuds in his ears, leaning his head against the window for the duration of the drive.

  As soon as my headlights shine on my house, Lo throws open the door, standing there in my T-shirt and socks up to her knees that I recognize from my little shopping spree with Briar and Mollie, arms folded across her chest.

  �
��Annnnd, she’s pissed,” Jesse says with a chuckle, wrapping the cord of his earbuds up before stashing them in his backpack.

  We both approach her like a couple of dogs that just shit all over the carpet, but once Jess is within reach, she pulls him in for a hug. “You good?” she asks, holding his cheeks in her hands. He nods, and she ruffles his hair before jerking her chin, telling him without words to wait inside.

  “I didn’t touch him,” I say before she gets a chance to speak up. “I exhibited excellent self-control.” It’s technically the truth. I took my anger out on his Range Rover instead of his face.

  Lo stares at me intently, and I don’t know whether she’s going to punch me or hug me. She does neither.

  “Don’t leave me like that again,” she says, pointing a stern finger at me. “You made me feel like he did. Like I’m a child, incapable of making my own decisions. Like I’m something you…own. I don’t like it. I’ve been taking care of Jess and me all by myself for a long time now.”

  The fact that she can even compare me to that piece of shit pisses me off. I get that she’s still raw from that asshole, but she has to see the difference.

  “That’s the thing. You don’t have to fucking do it alone.” I reach for her hand, and she lets me pull her into me. Lo wraps her arms around my waist, and I bask in the warmth that seeps into me.

  “I don’t know how to do that,” she admits, propping her chin against the center of my chest as she looks up at me.

  “I’ll be Jack and you’ll be Sally,” I joke, and she huffs out a reluctant laugh.

  “Thank you for bringing him here. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I hate feeling helpless. It makes me ragey.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” I lean down to kiss her on her forehead, and her eyelids flutter shut. “Did you know there’s no heat or power at Henry’s?”

  “What?” She pulls back. I figured she wouldn’t just leave him there like that. I nod, running my hands up her arms to keep her warm.

  “Let’s talk inside. It’s cold as fuck.”

 

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