Once Upon a Bad Boy--A Sometimes in Love Novel

Home > Other > Once Upon a Bad Boy--A Sometimes in Love Novel > Page 19
Once Upon a Bad Boy--A Sometimes in Love Novel Page 19

by Melonie Johnson


  “I told you, I’m coming with you,” Bo gritted out. “I want to make sure you and the car get to your place in one piece.”

  Sadie changed lanes, snaking between two other cars with ease. “See? I got this. It’s like riding a bicycle.”

  A ripple of laughter floated through the car.

  “Are you making fun of me?” she demanded.

  “No.” Bo laughed again. “I’m remembering that time you tried to surf on your bike.”

  “Oh.” Sadie felt her cheeks flush. “That’s not a good example of what I meant. I don’t plan to try riding down a hill while standing on the roof of my car anytime soon.”

  “I still can’t believe you did that.” Bo shook his head, awe in his voice. “What were you? Ten?”

  “Yep.” Sadie snorted. “And of course, I did it. You dared me to.” She could still picture her bike, sea-foam green with a turquoise banana seat. It was the banana seat that had started the whole escapade in the first place. They’d been riding their bikes up and down the gently sloping back roads for most of a lazy summer afternoon and were getting bored. Bo got the bright idea to speed down a hill with no hands, then did it again while holding on to his handlebars, knees balanced on his bike seat.

  Sadie had decided, with the wisdom of her single decade on earth, that thanks to her longer seat, she could probably one-up Bo and coast down the hill while standing. Bo had dared her to give it a try, and the next thing she knew, she was flying, feet balanced on her seat, legs straight, fingertips barely hanging on to the ends of her handlebars. She managed to make it all the way to the end of the hill before the bike veered sharply, hit some gravel, and skidded, sending Sadie flipping over the handlebars to land in a field on her back, staring up at the blue summer sky.

  “I’ve seen a lot of stunts in my day and done more than my fair share of dangerous ones, but that is still one of the ballsiest, most cold-stone awesome performances I’ve ever witnessed,” Bo said, voice holding more than a touch of admiration. “I’ll never forget how you calmly got up, dusted yourself off, and got back on your bike, continuing on your merry way like it was no big deal.”

  Sadie grinned. The part she remembered most about that day was the look on Bo’s face, a little shocked and a whole lot impressed. “At the risk of ruining all the major cool points I earned,” she began, glancing over at him, “I have a confession.”

  “You hired a stunt double,” Bo deadpanned. “I knew it.”

  “No!” Sadie laughed. “It was definitely me, but I was completely stunned by the fall. The wind had been knocked out of me. Honestly, I think I was in shock at the time. Getting up and climbing back on my bike wasn’t really a conscious decision. I just did it.”

  “Seriously?” Bo chuckled, the warm rumble of his mirth rolling over her. “Well, whatever the case, it was still pretty badass. Your cool points are safe.”

  “Thanks.” They drove in companionable silence for a while, lost in memories.

  After some time, Bo asked, “Was that the same summer we tried to re-create the bridge scene?”

  Sadie frowned, thinking hard. “Bridge scene?”

  “You know, in Star Wars, when the controls for the bridge don’t work, and Luke and Leia swing across.”

  “Oh, that’s right!” Sadie shook her head, smiling. She’d completely forgotten about that. They’d tied a bed sheet to a rafter in her grandma’s barn and swung from one side of the loft to the other. “I think that was the summer before, when I was nine.”

  “Really?”

  “Uh-huh. I remember because I had never seen the movie before we watched it together.” While Bo usually put up with watching all her “hokey old-fashioned” movies, sometimes Sadie compromised and watched what he wanted. And while she didn’t like the films he picked as much as her beloved classics, she could admit she did enjoy them. Especially the ones with kick-ass Princess Leia, a fierce leader who wasn’t afraid to take charge and call the shots.

  “You know, I think I’ve unconsciously been modeling parts of Jamie’s personality on Princess Leia.”

  “I can see that,” Bo agreed. “You remind me of her a little bit.”

  “Who? Princess Leia?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, you remind me of the scoundrel, what was his name?”

  “Han Solo.”

  “Right, him.” Sadie made the turn into the parking garage below her building. An assigned space came with her apartment, but she’d never had to park here before, so it took her a moment to figure out the numbering system. She cruised down the aisle slowly, watching for her spot. “Maybe I am a little like Leia,” she admitted, rounding another corner and glancing in his direction.

  “What’s that smile for?” Bo asked suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?” Finally, Sadie found the number correlating to her apartment and pulled in. She turned off the engine. “I was just thinking, I can relate to Leia.”

  “Yeah?” His voice was a quiet rasp. In the shadows of the garage, the dark interior of her car suddenly felt very intimate.

  “Yeah.” Her own voice was low and throaty. “I can appreciate her fondness for a scoundrel.”

  “Is that so?” Bo’s eyes were fixated on her mouth.

  “Mm-hmm.” She pressed her lips together. Then she leaned across the seat and whispered in his ear, “It’s hard to resist a good bad boy.”

  Bo chuckled. Low and rumbly and delicious. “Well, princess,” he began, in a voice full of Han Solo swagger, “maybe you should check out my light saber.”

  “You didn’t.” Sadie groaned, leaning her forehead on the steering wheel. “I can’t believe you went there.”

  “What? Too corny?”

  “That. And even I know Han Solo didn’t use a light saber.”

  “True,” Bo admitted. “There’s nothing like a good blaster at your side.”

  Sadie gave him a bit of side-eye. “Can you recite all of Han Solo’s lines?”

  “Try me.” He reached for Sadie’s hand.

  “Hmm.” She sat up, enjoying the sensation of his fingers wrapped around hers. “There’s that scene where Princess Leia tells Han she likes nice men,” Sadie suggested.

  “And he says he is a nice man.” Bo cocked a smile at her and lifted her fingers to his lips.

  “But she says no.” Sadie tilted her face up. “You’re not, you’re—”

  Bo interrupted her with a kiss, exactly like Han did to Leia in the movie. He bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers, tongue thrusting deep, the whole kiss coming at her in one overwhelming wave of sensation.

  She heard the click of Bo’s seat belt as he undid it, and then he was reaching across, unbuckling hers as well. He pulled her closer, dragging her out of her seat, into his lap. Sadie followed his lead, swinging her legs over the center console and straddling Bo. It was a tight fit and not very comfortable.

  “Maybe we should have test-driven this aspect of the car before I bought it,” Sadie teased against Bo’s mouth.

  “We can take things for a spin now, if you like,” he offered, gripping her hips, thigh muscles tensing beneath her as he shifted on the seat.

  Sadie felt him growing hard between her legs. She settled herself more fully on his lap, rubbing her heat against the tight ridge of his erection. She groaned in frustration. There were too many layers between them. But with her knees trapped between the passenger door and the console, there wasn’t a lot of room to remedy the situation.

  “If my memory serves, this used to work better for us in the back.” She wiggled off his lap, slipping between the front seats and climbing into the back. Free to move around a little more, she kicked off her shoes. A reckless, wanton urge seized her, and she shimmied out of her jeans.

  “What are you doing back there?” Bo asked.

  “I’ll give you one guess.” Sadie tossed her panties into the front seat, barely missing smacking him in the back of the head.

  Bo retrieved the
scrap of fabric. Twirling the silk and lace around on one finger, he shifted, angling his torso so he could turn around and look at her.

  Whoa. The heat and hunger in his eyes. Amber shards of fire stoking to life.

  Sadie shivered. But she didn’t look away. In the dim glow from the parking garage’s fluorescent lighting, they watched each other.

  Fully clothed from the waist up, from outside the car, nothing would seem out of place. Keeping her gaze locked on his, Sadie spread her knees apart, opening her legs wide. Then she raised an eyebrow, a silent dare for him to break their stare first.

  He raised a brow in return, eyes not moving from hers.

  Their staring contest continued.

  She brought one hand between her legs and stroked herself, slowly.

  Beneath the edge of his beard, his throat worked, Adam’s apple bobbing.

  Sadie fought a grin of triumph. She had him now. She shoved her knees farther apart, as far as they could go, and brought her other hand into the mix, fingers gently spreading her folds, opening herself to him.

  With a groan, Bo caved. His gaze dropped, thick lashes a dark swath against his cheeks as he shifted his focus to between her legs.

  “I win,” Sadie gloated.

  “If you say so,” Bo muttered huskily from the front seat, attention fixed on the movement of her hands.

  “You’re going to get a crick in your neck if you keep that up,” she taunted, still touching herself with lazy strokes. That, too, was a taunt.

  “I thought this was a staring contest.”

  “I already won the staring contest.”

  “No, this is a new contest.”

  “But you’re not even looking at me!” Sadie protested.

  “Sweetheart, I’m definitely looking at you.”

  “You know what I mean.” Her hands stilled.

  “Don’t stop,” he growled.

  “What?”

  “That’s part of the contest.” His eyes flicked to hers. “I won’t stop watching you touch yourself. If you come before I look away, I win. If I look away before you come, you win.”

  “Ha.” She stroked herself again. “I could do this all day.”

  “Fine with me.” Bo licked his lips.

  Sadie gasped. She was throbbing. Wracked with the need to feel his mouth on her, his tongue inside her. The scrape of his beard against her thighs.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have been such a big talker. His gaze never strayed from her as she continued to work her fingers over the sensitive nub of her clit, slipping inside, feeling the hot slick slide of her own skin.

  She wanted to close her eyes. Wanted to throw her head back and give herself over to the orgasm building inside her. But she also wanted to win. Sadie hated to lose. Besides, if she closed her eyes, she wouldn’t know if he’d stopped looking. So she kept it up, fingers stroking and teasing her aching, swollen flesh. All the while watching him watching her.

  “Close, aren’t you, abeja?” Bo teased, his voice a husky hum. “So very very close.”

  “Shut up,” she ordered, gritting her teeth.

  He chuckled, and that was even worse. Dark and rich and sweet as sin, the low vibrations of his laughter rumbled through the car and along her skin. Making her throb deep inside.

  The tremors began, ripples of sensation radiating out. Sadie bit down on a moan as her hips bucked against her own hand.

  “You are so beautiful,” he praised her. “Let me watch you, let me see you come.”

  Not sure she could have stopped now anyway, Sadie circled the pad of her thumb over her clit. She cried out, hips lifting off the seat as she got herself off in a series of sure swift strokes.

  “Fuck, yes,” he groaned, voice thick with approval. “That’s it, sweetheart.” Bo jerked the handle on his seat and leaned all the way back. Hands on her thighs, he pulled her to him, sliding her wet heat toward his eager mouth.

  Never had losing felt so much better than winning. The second his lips found her, tongue slipping inside, Sadie exploded again, shattering with a second orgasm. She collapsed, lying flat out on the backseat, legs like jelly.

  Bo moved over her, covering her body with his. He kissed her then, and she tasted herself on his tongue, tart and earthy.

  Their kisses continued as she reached between them, seeking the front of his jeans. Her fingers loosened his belt and made quick work of his zipper. Again, excitement built inside her. She’d just come twice, but the weight of him on top of her, the feel of his body on hers, brought back a hundred familiar sensations from nights long ago.

  Of stolen moments and pleasure freely given. She hadn’t known how special what they had was, hadn’t understood how rare. Nobody made her feel like Bo did. The time they’d spent this past weekend had been incredible, but they’d stopped short of that step. Hadn’t taken it all the way.

  Sadie tugged at the waistband of his briefs, wanting to free his cock so she could trap it inside her body. He groaned, and she sucked the sound into her, kissing him deep, needing to take all of him inside her. Everything he had to give. Sadie lifted her hips, grinding against him, inviting him in. Finally, the smooth head of his erection rubbed against her, skin to skin.

  More memories flooded her. Flashes of the last time they’d been together like this, in the back seat of a car, the heat and scent of passion drenching the air … and what had happened after.

  She froze, muscles going rigid.

  It was Bo who broke the kiss. Propping himself up, he looked down at her, his face a blend of shadows in the dark interior of her back seat, his breathing ragged. “Abeja?”

  “Yeah?” Dazed, head still foggy with desire, Sadie tried to make sense of the warring sensations tearing through her. Part of her wanted to keep going, to take that last step, to welcome Bo inside her body again. But another part of her recoiled.

  “Maybe we should stop.” His voice was rough—raw but restrained. Bo drew back from her, pulling his clothes into place.

  “Yeah,” she said again. Not a question this time. She couldn’t do this. Not here. Sadie struggled to sit up, cold without the warmth of Bo’s body against hers. Lust curdled as another sensation, familiar as it was unwelcome, settled around her.

  She knew this feeling. Knew its shape and weight and texture and taste.

  Regret.

  CHAPTER 18

  BO RODE THE elevator up with Sadie to her condo. Physically, she was standing next to him, but somehow, he knew she was far away. Years away. That moment in her car. The velvet darkness of the back seat, the velvet slide of her skin against his … had it brought all of it back for her too?

  The last night they’d been together.

  The night it all went to hell.

  The elevator bell dinged. With effort, Bo pulled himself back, away from that moment, and followed Sadie out of the elevator, wishing he could shut out the rest of that terrible night as easily as the elevator doors slid shut behind him.

  Bo glanced around as he waited for Sadie to unlock the door to her place. Everything was shiny and new, just as he’d expected. The plush, stain-free carpet lining the hall, the smudge-free walls, the gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows, filling the space, making it sparkle with afternoon sunshine.

  The door opened, and she led him inside. Her place was equally shiny and new. Gleaming gray hardwood floors. Bright white walls. The same floor-to-ceiling windows letting in more of that afternoon sunlight, and a spectacular view of the lake.

  “I think we both could use a drink,” Sadie said, heading toward her kitchen.

  Bo trailed behind her. She indicated a seat for him at the island. Everything here was shiny and new too. Sparkling granite countertops. Pristine stainless-steel appliances.

  Popping open the freezer door, Sadie pulled out a bottle of chilled vodka. She set it on the counter and sifted through the cabinets for two glasses. “Here,” she said, placing the bottle and glasses in front of him. “You pour.”

  While Bo measured out the liquor, sh
e went back to the fridge, returning a moment later with a jug of cranberry juice. She set the juice next to her glass and hopped up on the stool beside his. Despite himself, he felt the beginnings of a grin crease his lips.

  “I see that smirk,” Sadie said, wiggling onto her seat. “Are you laughing at me because I still can’t handle my booze straight or because I still can’t get on a stool without jumping?”

  “Both,” he admitted. The steel band that had been constricting his chest eased a little.

  Sadie topped off her glass with juice, pausing to offer him some. He shook his head.

  “Suit yourself.” She shrugged. Setting the jug down, she lifted her glass. “Should we toast to something?”

  “To buying a new car?” he suggested. They were playing a new game now—the evasion game.

  “Sure.” They tapped glasses.

  “Salud.” Bo tossed back his drink, icy fire smoothing down his throat and heating his belly. “We should name her,” he said.

  “What? My car?” She sipped her drink slowly. “How do you know it’s not a him?”

  He snorted and poured another shot. “Fine. It’s a him. What’s his name?”

  Sadie contemplated this, mouth working. “How about Brad?”

  “You want to name your car Brad?”

  “It was your idea to name the car, not mine.”

  “Okay, okay.” He raised his glass. “To Brad.”

  They toasted again. Bo took a breath, the alcohol and meaningless chatter making it easier to pretend everything was fine. He polished off what was left in his glass.

  “Bo?”

  Sadie’s voice was soft, but even his slightly inebriated ears didn’t miss the thread of tension.

  “Hmm?” He held himself still, bracing for what he knew deep in his gut was coming next.

  “Why did you do it? Why did you break up with me?”

  And there it was. He knew she’d been thinking of that night too. How could she not? He’d wondered when she would ask. Was surprised it had taken her this long to demand the answers he owed her. And he did owe her. Bo stared down into his empty glass, debating another shot.

 

‹ Prev