BARE HANDS - A Bad Boy Romance Novel

by Gabi Moore

  He took a tentative step towards me, extending his long neck to see me more clearly in the grass. Even from so far away, I knew the expression he had on. I knew all his expressions. I made a move toward him too. Soon, we were walking towards one another again. My heart was pounding madly in my throat, but the blood fell from my face. My hands found a passing stem and I yanked it from the soil and took it with me, twisting it nervously as we approached one another.

  “Hello,” he said, when all the distance was gone, and we were two feet from one another.

  “Hello.”

  “Nice headband,” he said and I did a weird, dismissive shrug. This was already going completely different to what I had imagined.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I had no idea where that came from.

  “No, I’m the one that should apologize.”

  He looked so damn good. He had such a beautiful body. Every last inch of him was masculine. Everything was hard and tight with purpose. Nothing on him was by accident. Not a shred of him was wasted.

  “I have something to tell you,” I said. He didn’t seem surprised. His eyes were soft as he looked at me.

  “I know you’ve been seeing Valerie all this time” I breathed, and it was like getting poison out of my system, to just finally say the words, and give them to him, so I didn’t have to carry them anymore.

  He went white.

  “What…?” he sputtered. He looked genuinely surprised.

  “I know that she comes and sees you. And I wanted to tell you that you’re wrong.”

  He looked like he was having a hard time forming words. He searched my face and seemed crestfallen, and all of a sudden a flash of irritation came over him. He rubbed a hand over his face and swore under his breath.

  “I’m sorry, Penny…” he started but I cut him short.

  “’Sorry’ doesn’t mean a damn thing. Don’t apologize. Just own it. You did it, and it was wrong” I said, staring hard at him.

  “But…” his eyes darted from me to the ground and back again.

  “Ah fuck, Penny. Why did you have to come here at all? This is who I am. This is me, I’m fucking sorry. Go home and marry your boyfriend, if you want a pet to put in a cage…”

  I laughed out loud.

  “Don’t give me that bullshit! What you did was wrong.” I said, somehow finding strength from the earth beneath me.

  “I never agreed to anything with you, and you knew that right from the…”

  “You’re wrong Vik! Just admit it.”

  He glowered at me.

  “Oh, now we’re going to talk morality, are we?" I’m wrong, yes, fine. I made a huge mistake. But I’m not the one who came all the way out here looking for trouble, just begging for a reason not to go back…”

  “I told you, I might still go back,” I said quietly.

  “Might?!”

  I sat down on the grass and rubbed my face. I was getting tired of this.

  “Why Valerie though? You both have nothing in common, I just don’t get it…”

  He sat next to me, but not too close.

  “I know. That’s kind of the point.”

  “What do you mean?’

  “I don’t fucking know. Valerie’s easy. I know what to expect from her. She doesn’t demand anything from me, in fact, she’s kind of shallow in her own way and she…”

  “Are you saying I demand things of you?”

  “Well, yes! Yes, you do actually. And I love it. You don’t just take my word for it, Penny. You push me. You’re not afraid to… I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. I’m sorry. That’s all. I’m sorry.”

  The grass rustled peacefully beside us. What a mess. I was tired. So, so tired. I wanted to hate him, but I just couldn’t summon the energy. A few months ago, he had seemed to me the biggest, scariest person in the world, made of steel and iron and hardwood, and I couldn’t believe he had taken notice of me. But now I saw him there, sitting in the grass with me, and I realized just how lonely he was. How scary I must have seemed to him.

  “I think I should leave Mchinji for a while. I need to clear my head,” he said at last.

  I said nothing.

  Somehow, our bodies found their way to one another again, and I was in his arms, in a heartbeat. I kissed him hard and deep, and he held me firmly in his arms, cradling my head and pouring down wordless kisses caresses over me. Without thinking, I surrendered to him and soon my arms were moving swiftly over his hips, slipping underneath the familiar folds of his sarong, while he pulled at mine and we tore away at them, matching up our nakedness, pressing bare skin to bare skin. It all happened so quickly. I was soon perched on his lap, naked under my brilliantly colored sarong, fanned out over us both. With ease he entered me, his hard cock towering straight up so that it pierced my body the moment I leaned into him. I exhaled and settled my weight down onto him, and his strong thighs tightened and he began to thrust into me.

  I cried out and in return he closed frantic teeth round the skin on my neck and shoulders. I realized I was sobbing. His rough hands on my hips, he bobbed me up and down in his lap, guiding my tired body over his form, slapping with each time he brought me down onto his lap and then up again. I wrapped my arms round him and buried my face in his neck.

  “Vik …Vik …” I said. “Vik, I love you.”

  “I love you too,” he breathed.

  “I love you, but I have to go now …I don’t want to do this anymore…” I cried and, wiping the tears from my face with the back of my hand, I tried to stand up.

  Violently, he clasped my waist and pulled me down again.

  “Don’t go. Penelope, please don’t go.”

  I tried again, but he easily overpowered me, fucking me even harder still. I squirmed and began to strike at his chest. He knew how quickly he could make me come. He knew just what to do, and where, and how, and soon I came shuddering down, my body twitching and gasping. His face softened as he looked up at me.

  “Don’t go Penelope…”

  I slapped his face, hard, just once. I untangled myself from him and walked off. I didn’t need to look behind me to know that he lay kneeling in the grass, shattered. I retied a tight, thick knot round my waist and rearranged the folds of my sarong. Sometimes bad can be good. Sometimes good can be bad. And sometimes, a thing can be neither. I had learnt everything I could from Vik, and now I was done with him.

  With every step I took away from him, I felt stronger.

  Chapter Twenty-Three - Penelope

  I made my way to the café. It was one of those hot, unbearably humid days, the kind of day where people’s tempers flare just a little higher than usual. Mama had been short with me in general these days, but when she sent one of the kids to come and fetch me because ‘someone special wanted to talk with me’, I knew something was up.

  I walked tall in the midday heat. He could just go to hell if he thought he had any chance of “talking” with me. I planned on saying nothing. Letting him squirm a little as it dawns on him that I want nothing more to do with him, or his stupid cabin, or his dumb plants. Besides, as it turns out, I can grow my own plants. I had devoted two small sections of the maize plot to my own experiments, and now had tea and garlic and small fruit trees growing like they were magical. And I didn’t need his damn help to do any of it.

  I stepped into the café and scanned for Mama Tembi. She was behind the counter, big bosoms resting on the counter, rolling cigarettes with a new automatic roller I had bought for her. She lifted her head to look at me, but her face was unhappy. I was about to greet her when I saw him out the corner of my eye.

  He stood when he saw me. Dylan.

  The look of pure horror on his face nearly made me laugh out loud, and I would have if my throat wasn’t suddenly dry as a bone.

  “What are you …what are you wearing?” he said quietly.

  I walked over, glanced over at Mama Tembi, who had stopped rolling, and looked back at him.

  “Well, it’s nice to see you too,”
I said.

  We hadn’t spoken in months.

  Even the cat in the corner stopped licking itself and looked at us both. There weren’t too many people in the café at that time of day, but in that special way Malawians can eavesdrop while pretending not to, I could tell everyone had pricked their ears to whatever conversation was about to go down.

  “Penny! Come inside! Look, your fiancé has come to visit, I’m going to get you both some Coke and then you can sit here at the quiet table, I’m sure you have a lot to talk about” Mama said, and put down her cigarettes to come and usher us both to a quiet part of the café. We stared at each other in silence while she fussed and fetched us two cold bottles of coke and then sat me down next to him. He didn’t get up.

  My fingers were wet and cold on the bottle. I couldn’t make eye contact, but I could tell he was angry. He looked so crumpled. He must have flown over and taken the bus, just like I had, a lifetime ago. It may seem strange, but something about his face seemed so alien. The lines of it, the way his nose just seemed kind of mashed on as an afterthought. We had shared so many hateful text messages over the months that I didn’t expect to discover any fresh pockets of resentment for him, but somehow, seeing him like this and in the flesh, I was surprised to find how physically repulsed I was by him. He was so …soft. Had I ever been attracted to him? I was baffled.

  “You should have come to me if you needed me to send you clothing” he said at last, and took a sip of his Coke.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “You don’t have to wear …that” he said, his voice cold.

  I looked down at my blouse. A yellow and green batik printed in birds and triangles. It was one of my favorites.

  “I like it,” I said simply. I suddenly had a strong instinct that the less I said, the better.

  He raised an eyebrow. In my mind, we were as good as broken up. I had ignored him for months, he had threatened me, called me names, insulted my mission and much more. But here he was, from out the blue, showing concern for my clothing? I took a sip as well. I was angry that he was here. And more than that, I was expecting Vik, not him. True, I just wanted to flounce off and tell Vik exactly what I thought of his sorry ass, but still. He tightened his mouth and cleared his throat as though he was in some kind of rushed business meeting.

  “I know that you may be having some confused feelings about a lot of things, and that’s OK” he started. I looked at him. Confused was right. Our engagement had been a joke, and now it was over. What more was there to say?

  “I know you’re a prideful woman. But you’re young, and it’s fine. I do understand that. I know you think I’m a little hard with you, but I actually understand a hell of a lot more than you give me credit for.”

  The café was mostly quiet. People chattered amongst themselves, but I could tell they were listening keenly. I took another sip, looking at him.

  “And I’m here to tell you that I come in peace. I’m not angry anymore. If you stop this nonsense right now, we can pretend none of this happened, and I’ll let you come home and we can…”

  “Let me come home…?”

  I could see his nostrils flaring.

  “Yes Penelope. It’s not too late. Don’t worry, I’m not angry. Just give this up and come home, please.”

  I hated the way he said “please” like a threat.

  I looked around the café and down again at my batik birds, flying chaotically across my chest.

  “I’m not coming home,” I said.

  He seemed exasperated.

  “I don’t understand. How can you …this place is such a …what are you running away from? Why don’t you want to come home?” he said. For a brief moment, he sounded legitimately hurt.

  “I like it here. And I’m going to keep staying here. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.”

  His nostrils flared again, and then all at once I saw the same old face I was most used to seeing from him. The righteously indignant face. The face gone pink with rage. This was the Dylan I knew. And up until now, I had never spoken to him like that, not to his face.

  I was petrified, but I loved it. He sputtered a little, trying to think of what to say, then stared daggers at me.

  “You are my fiancé, and you will not talk to me in that tone of voice” he said at last, almost spitting the words.

  “I am not your fiancé,” I said quickly, and took a sip.

  He leaned back in his chair and flashed an ugly smile at me.

  “You’ve gone mad. That’s obvious. You walked away from a perfectly good relationship to come here, of all fucking places, to this dump, and for what? I just don’t get it,” he said, in a voice squeaking with fresh anger. I thought I felt the crowd bristle a little, but I was too focused on watching the shade of pink deepen on his cheeks.

  “You don’t have to get it. I don’t want to be your wife.”

  He frowned and leaned in close, as though he was about to learn a secret.

  “What are afraid of Penelope? Whatever it is, we can work on it. We can go to counselling. I can make you happy. What do you need? Let me provide for you” he said. The words made my stomach lurch. I was realizing: I was angry too. Very angry. For so long I had been preoccupied with him all the time, with how angry he was and whether it was my fault that I had forgotten one maddening piece of information: I was angry!

  I was furious that he had robbed me of so many good feelings, of so much time. That he had made me hate myself, that he had tried to squash me and control me and limit me, and that I had trusted him all the while. He had made me feel so dirty. And now, I wanted to make him feel ashamed for what he was for a change.

  “What do I need? I told you so often what I needed,” I said slowly, and quietly.

  His brows furrowed as he tried to think.

  “You wanted …this trip? You wanted to postpone the wedding? What, tell me”

  “I told you, almost every day, what I wanted, what I …needed.” He looked at me, bewildered.

  “Well? What?” he almost yelled.

  “I needed to be fucked,” I said, as slowly and darkly as I could manage.

  The color fell from his face. I’ve never felt so simultaneously terrified but thrilled at the same time.

  “Penny, your language…” he started.

  “I needed to be fucked, hard, and you never gave that to me. I wanted it so badly. I begged you. That’s all I wanted. For you to love me…” I had to stop to make sure the choking in my throat didn’t turn into a full sob. I wouldn’t give him the privilege of seeing me cry.

  He leaned in closer, embarrassed, and spoke in an urgent whisper.

  “Of course, Penny, I understand, you have always had difficulty with temptation, but after the wedding…”

  “There will be no wedding,” I said, finding my voice was strong again. I stared at him hard until my eyes burned.

  He flopped back in the seat, a sinister look developing on his face.

  “Is …is there someone else?” he said, almost incredulous at the idea.

  “Yes,” I said. Why shouldn’t I be proud?

  “You’ve…?”

  “Fucked him? Oh yes,” I spat.

  If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was squeamishness. I didn’t want to hear him mince his words and dance round the question and blush and fret. I wasn’t ‘seeing’ anyone. I hadn’t ‘slept with’ anyone. And I didn’t want to hear him say so. I could visibly see him swallow, then release as his mouth hung open. I had never made him this angry before. So angry that even he couldn’t think of some venomous barb to throw my way.

  I leaned back myself, not quite smiling, but very close to it. He thought I was a dirty little slut? He thought I had trouble with ‘temptation’? Well, just let him see how much of a whore I could really be. If he thought my body was dirty, if my desires were so unthinkable, well, let him to see how much I enjoyed it. Not only did I not care that he judged me, I actually relished it. I hoped I disgusted him.
>
  “Penny …how could you?”

  I could hear the anger gathering in his voice again. He seemed confused that I wasn’t cowering anymore, wasn’t apologizing like I always did.

  “How? Oh, I’ll tell you how. With glee, that’s how. I met a man who actually loves sex, and loves me, and I let him fuck me so hard I thought I was going to die, and let me tell you Dylan, I loved every second of it. I sucked him, and I swallowed it all, and I let him put it in my ass, and…”

  “Penny! For God’s sake!” he said, panic in his eyes. He looked as though he was about to jump over the table and physically restrain me if I didn’t stop speaking. But I smiled at him and raised my voice.

  “And he’s big, Dylan, he’s so fucking big, too. He’d fuck me so good I’d hurt for days afterwards …I swear I never knew it was possible to be fucked so deep…” I said, rubbing it in. He thought I was disgusting? Oh, I’d show him disgusting.

  “Penny, please stop,” he said. I thought I heard the crowd around us hush a little as people strained their ears to hear if I really was saying the outrageous things it seemed like I was saying. Stop? No, I hadn’t even started yet. What irked me was how concerned he was that other people could hear him. A room full of strangers, and he cared more about what they thought of him than anything else. How utterly pathetic.

  “I’m carrying his baby,” I said.

  This time, the room really did go quiet. Mama Tembi’s rolling machine stopped squeaking and I felt her flash a worried look over to our table. I could just tell she was contemplating coming over to fret with more Cokes. Dylan looked nervously around the room, as though he expected a hidden camera crew to come bursting out from behind the reed mats on the wall. He was smiling that ugly smile again.

  “I’ll kill him,” he said, under his breath.

  “Good luck trying. He’s not even in the country anymore. He’s left for Russia, and I doubt any of us will ever see him again,” I said, and in a split second his hand flew through the air and slapped my cheek, hard, ringing out in the café so hard it brought tears to my eyes. I recoiled, my hands on my face, and stood to take a step back from him.