Fantasy Boyfriend #2 (A Tattooed Bad Boy Romance) (2 page)

A couple of days passed without event. I slowly got
back to what I considered normal. And of course, every time I'd thought of
Luke, I felt conflicted. I felt sexually attracted to him and couldn't stop
those feelings from taking over before my common sense kicked in. Every time I
thought of Luke, I thought of his warm lips, his silky tongue, the feel of his
hands on my nipples, the feel of him inside me, carrying me toward the greatest
sexual ecstasy that I had ever experienced. Too bad he was such a jerk.

Actually, it was that aspect of Luke Bradford that I
found so confusing. On the one hand, he was the epitome of a charismatic,
suave, and gentlemanly figure who was not only sexually experienced, but quite
adept at pleasing a woman. On the other hand, it was now obvious that he cared
little for other people's feelings. That was extremely disappointing because he
did have so much going for him. I still couldn't figure out why I hadn't heard
from him in just about a week now. Even if he wasn't interested in me, I
could've taken it if he had sent me a brush off note – anything. All he had to
do was say so. But to have sex with me like that, as passionately as he had and
then not to even offer a word or an explanation through a text message or
voicemail? Not that there was any relationship to break up from, because as far
as I was concerned, one date did not equate to a relationship. So what kind of
relationship had I had with him?

After the night at the restaurant when I had seen Luke
with that gorgeous woman, who certainly seemed older than any college student I
had ever met, I had a desperately tried to shove him out of my thoughts. Why he
wouldn't just go away and leave my brain cells alone was a conundrum. Surely, I
couldn't be attracted to such a callous, unfeeling, and rude guy, could I?
Well, that was kind of oblivious of me, I thought. I obviously was.

At any rate, I continued to try to focus on my
classes, complete my homework, and look forward instead of backward. At the
moment, I was walking to my early morning advanced chemistry class and trying
to mentally prepare myself for my first exam. I hoped I was ready and could
stay focused long enough to take the test without thoughts of Luke invading and
interrupting that focus.

I wasn't surprised when class started and the test
paper was handed out and there was still no sign of Luke. He hadn't been to the
advanced chemistry class in nearly a week and I wondered if he had dropped it.
What, had he just been trolling around different classes, looking for an easy
mark like me? I shook my head. Don't fool or flatter yourself, I scolded
myself. I was no more special than any other woman on campus, including the
gorgeous one that I'd seen them with the restaurant the other evening. He was
obviously playing the field, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I had no
claims on him, and I realized that, but at the same time I didn't like to feel
used.

Advanced chemistry passed without event. I think I did
okay on the exam, even though I had been distracted by my wayward thoughts. A
couple more classes and I would have my lunch break. I pretty much stayed by
myself most of the day, not even joining my friends for lunch like I usually
did when we all had a break between classes at the same time, which was rare
enough.

My first class after lunch was a nursing fundamentals
class. I tried to focus, but was finding it increasingly difficult. Why
couldn't I shake it? Why couldn’t I shake Luke and images of him and those
tattoos from my mind? Since that didn’t seem likely to happen, I didn't know
what I was going to do about it. Actually, what I wanted to do was confront
Luke, tell him what a jerk he was, but since he was nowhere to be found, I
couldn't even do that. Besides, what good would that do? It wouldn't matter one
iota to someone like him, but for me? It could be cathartic and help me get
past my funk. I wasn't used to confrontations, and I certainly didn't go
looking for trouble or pick arguments with people, but sometimes, something
needed to be said. And boy, did I have a lot to say!

"You in there?"

I found myself standing in front of the nursing
fundamentals classroom, blocking people's way. A few irritated glances passed
my way, and then I realized that Vivian, one of the girls I had met in this
class last week, was speaking to me. She was a nice girl, dedicated to her
ambition in becoming a surgical nurse. "Oh hey, Vivian, sorry about
that." I followed her into the classroom and we sat together near the back
corner.

"You've been pretty distracted the last couple of
days."

It wasn't a question. It was a comment. I could only
shrug in agreement. "I guess you could say that."

“Rumor has it that you went out with Luke Bradford
last weekend."

I nodded. No sense in denying it.

"Everyone knows he's a womanizer," she
commented.

I looked at her, eyebrow raised.

"Oh, don't misunderstand, I didn't go out with
the guy," she said, shaking her head with a look of distaste. "While
he certainly is something to look at, his reputation precedes him."

Reputation? How come I had never heard of Luke
Bradford before the first day of class? I frowned. "Isn't he new to the
school?"

"Well, sort of. From what I understand, he did
take his freshman year here and then last year he attended part of a semester
before
he
up and disappeared. Now he's back again. But
I'll tell you one thing, he does have the reputation of being a player and a
womanizer."

I gathered that much based on my own experiences.
Vivian continued to elaborate.

"Not only is he a womanizer, but he's also got a
bad reputation-"

"Bad as in how?" At first I wondered if he
was an abuser or one of the types that got insanely jealous. Worse yet, could
he be a stalker? My imagination began to run wild.

"Nothing physical," she said. "Just
that he’s broken more than a few of his share of hearts, I can tell you
that."

"Nothing abusive? Physically, emotionally, or
otherwise?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Not that I know of. But
still, you're lucky you got out when you did. You could've gotten hurt a lot
worse if things had gone much farther."

Farther? Farther than what, I wondered. Did she know?
"What do you know about it?" I asked. I saw a flash of embarrassment
darken Vivian's cheeks, and then she tried to backtrack. "Go ahead,
spill," I told her. I braced for the worst.

"Sorry, Jessica, I don't want to be the one to
tell you this, but rumor has it that you guys went to a sushi restaurant, made
out on the table, and then he took you up into the foothills…"

Oh my God, I thought. Not only was he with jerk, but
he was a loose-lipped jerk. He obviously didn't adhere to the gentleman's code
of kissing and not telling. I felt a brief surge of panic. "Everyone
knows?" I was horrified and felt my own flush of embarrassment heat my
cheeks. "Oh God."

"I'm sorry, Jessica," Vivian repeated.
"I just thought you should know. If it makes you feel any better, this is
not the first time that this has happened. That's what I meant by him having a
bad reputation. It's not that he goes around bragging, but from what I
understand, he has a few friends and they're not that hesitant about talking about
their sexual exploits. Unfortunately, none of them understand the concept of
privacy."

I glanced around the room, wondering who else knew.
Now every time someone looked at me, I would wonder if they knew about Luke and
me – about our sex in the woods. How many details had he let slip, purposely or
otherwise? I swear, if I could get my hands on him right now, I think I would
throttle him. How dare
he
!

Later that afternoon after I got back home, I stomped
up to my room. Before I could even open my bedroom door, however, Becky opened
her door and gestured for me to come inside. I did. They were all there. I
could tell by the looks on their faces – sympathetic, understanding, and
flustered – that they had heard the same rumors today. I decided to make it easy
on them. "Don't worry, I know all about the rumors that are going around
campus about Luke and me."

Selena was the first to speak. "Jessica, this is
horrible. I'm so sorry. Well, if it wasn't clear before, it is certainly clear
now that Luke is a jerk…more than a jerk. He's a bastard. And the next time I
see him, I'm not going to hesitate to tell him so, not that it would matter to
someone as stuck up and arrogant as he is."

I shook my head. "Better just to not get
involved, Selena. And don't you worry.

If I see him, you can rest assured that I'll have a
few choice words for him myself."

Creep
.
That's what I wrote in my diary that night about Luke. He was a creep. He was a
disappointing example of a man; a man who took advantage and then spread
rumors. What was this, high school? This was a perfect example of why I didn't
get involved with guys here at college. They seemed so immature, so incapable
of being serious. While I knew it was wrong to lump them all into one category,
I had yet to find a guy in college that not only met my standards, but behaved
like a man and not a boy fueled merely by testosterone.

What was it with guys? I was so sick and tired of this
double standard. When a guy played the field, he was given a slap on the back
and encouragement. Atta-boy! When a woman did, she was labeled a slut. I was
the farthest thing from a slut that anybody could define, and yet here I was,
finding my reputation being bandied about around school as just that: a slut.

I wasn't exactly sure of the details floating around
campus, but I had noticed one thing toward the end of the day – more of the
guys smirked at me while I received a combination of reactions from girls. Some
looked at me with outright sympathy while others with jealousy. Apparently,
Luke was one of the main attractions on campus this year. As far as I was
concerned, though, he had come out of nowhere, and he could just disappear for
all I cared. What made it even more difficult for me, other than my hurt
feelings and embarrassment, was the fact that I had really enjoyed spending
time with him. To say that I had enjoyed our sexual adventures was an
understatement. Why, oh why did Luke have to be such a creep?

After I finished my diary entry, I went back to my
list of prerequisites. Staring at it, I had
an
Eureka
moment. Okay, so Luke was a womanizer, and although I hadn't really intended to
compare a womanizer with someone who was experienced, I suppose one didn't come
without the other. With a sigh, I placed a checkmark next to
womanizer.
Okay, so Luke not only had
tattoos, but he was
a this
requirement, too.

I sat back, the diary falling into my lap as I stared
up at the ceiling, contemplating. I couldn't help it. Despite how Luke had
treated me, I was still attracted to him. In fact, even just thinking about him
caused my nipples to harden and my private area to thrum with desire. What the
hell was that all about? I had never felt this way about a guy, and certainly
not about a guy that had used me and then turned around and ignored me as if I
was nothing more than a casual plaything. I tried to stay angry, but as I
continued to think about Luke, his luscious black hair, his eyes, and those
incredible tattoos on strong and muscled forearms, I felt flushed and excited.

My private area was tingling now, and I was surprised
to realize that even thinking of Luke and his hard body could bring me to such
a state of heightened excitement. Alone in my room I was free to fantasize, and
that's exactly what I did. I fantasized that Luke was standing at the bottom of
my bed, naked. Of course, I hadn't seen him completely naked, but I had seen
enough of him to fill in the blanks. I envisioned him walking toward my side of
the bed, his erection in full view, the pulse of desire throbbing in his neck. He
knelt down beside the bed and began to unbutton my shirt. His lips met mine,
and I moaned.

The sound of my own moan jolted me to awareness. I
gazed around my room. Luke wasn't here. I was being foolish, indulging in
nothing but fantasy. I shook my head. I had never indulged in wild imaginings
and certainly not sexual fantasies. Still, there was something naughty about
it, something taboo that captured my curiosity. Who was it going to hurt? Even
more importantly, who would know? I got up from the bed and undressed, then lay
back down on the bed, naked. The only light on in the room was my bedside table
light, casting a dull glow around the bed, but not deep enough to delve into
the shadows at the corner of the room. Outside the dormer window, the sky was dark.

On a whim, and smiling, I spoke into the darkness.
"Who needs you anyway, Luke? I have my memory, and I can indulge in you
anytime I want. Better yet, I can do it without any further hurt from you. So
what do you say about that?"

I lay on the bed, closed my eyes, and let my
imagination run wild. Once again, there was Luke, standing at the base of the
bed with incredibly broad shoulders, huge pecs, bulging biceps, and of course,
those glorious tattoos. His abs were rock hard and sported the coveted six-pack,
and then my gaze dipped down to his narrow hips. From its nest of dark curls
rose his erection, and I envisioned it as it hardened and lengthened his penis
at my whim, not his. I smiled again. This was fun.

In my imaginings, I once again urged Luke to walk
around the side of the bed, where he gazed down at me with nothing but
admiration and adoration. His eyes traveled from my face to my breasts,
lingered there, shining with anticipation, and then his gaze traveled down my
abdomen and down to my own trimmed nest of blonde curls. Then, I imagined him
kneeling beside the side of the bed, cupping my face with his hands, kissing me
softly. One hand traveled down my jawline and along my neck until it rested
over my left breast, cupping it gently as he felt its weight. His thumb brushed
across my nipple, instantly hardening it.

After both my breasts were tingling with desire,
aching for his lips, the hand continued downward, stroking softly, gently until
cupping my pubis. My breathing accelerated, my blood drumming through my veins,
my sense of incitement enhanced. As his head dipped lower and his lips
enveloped a nipple, the hand began to explore my pubis, seeking and finally
locating my clitoris. As his tongue swirled around my nipple, my hand moved,
awakening every nerve sensation in my body. I was so turned on by my fantasy
that the line between reality and fantasy soon faded. It was Luke’s hands
exciting me, urging me onward, and not my own.

My excitement built, and I could feel my impending
climax. His mouth moved to my own and I imagined him kissing me, his tongue
swirling around mine, while his hands – my hands – worked their magic. My hips
rocked in a strong, rhythmic motion, and I imagine his soft moans as he felt my
wetness, my impending orgasm. Suddenly, there it was, washing over me in deep,
long, undulating waves.

It took quite a while for my internal muscular spasms
to gradually subside and when they finally did, I open my eyes, smiling. I felt
relaxed and lethargic. "So, Luke Bradford," I said to the ceiling.
"Who needs you?" I laughed, rolled over, and felt myself tipping over
the edge into a deep and satisfying sleep.