Wanted: A Bad Boy Romance (11 page)

Jordana rolls back to me.
“Sometimes I think I’m stuck in the past. Other times I can’t stop obsessing
over the future. I couldn’t live in the moment if I tried.”

Her teeth rake across her lower
lip, and without thinking, I lean in and steal a kiss. My hand follows, grazing
her soft cheek until she leans closer. She wants it. She’s welcoming it.

My fingers trail down her neck,
past her arm, and under her shirt until her breast fills my cupped palm. My
tongue forces her lips to part, dancing with hers and greedily tasting her hot
mouth.

“What are you thinking about
now?” I mutter into her mouth before kissing her again. Claiming her lips over
and over, I add, “Focus on this. Focus on the way you feel right now. In this
moment.”

She nods once, her lips hot on
mine.

I roll to my back after yanking
her panties down her long legs, and pull her on top of me. The only thing
separating us is the thin fabric of my sweats. She grinds against my cock. It’s
been years since I’ve experienced the pleasure of a good dry hump, but I’ll
take it.

Gripping her hips, she circles
around me, her eyes closing and her tongue dragging across her lips
.

As soon as I saw her at my door
tonight, I knew she came here for one thing. The first thing I did was
swear
to myself I wouldn’t fuck her.

But a man can only be so strong.

And a man can only be sex-starved
for so long.

I remind myself
it’s
just sex.

My mind is on her, on the bed in
the small of her back, on the way her dark hair drapes across her collarbone
when she moves. I’m not thinking about the last five years. I’m not thinking
about tomorrow. I’m right here, in this moment, with Jordana.

She pulls the t-shirt over her
head, and my hands lift to cup her swollen breasts.

A perfect
handful.

I sit up, taking a dark nipple in
my mouth and swirling my tongue across the bumps and ridges.

I’m hard as a rock, and the scent
of her arousal works to dissolve every good intention I could possibly have in
this moment.

“Fuck me, Jordana,” I groan,
burying my head between her tits.

It’s going to be a late night,
and I’ve got a fight tomorrow night. I should be sleeping, conserving my
energy, but fuck me. I can’t resist her any longer.

Her hips buck and circle,
pressing harder against my cock until she reaches down and pulls it out. She
wastes no time teasing herself with it, slipping it back and forth, gliding the
head of my dick along her seam.

She’s wet as fuck.

I can’t take the teasing.

I’m going to bust before I’m even
inside that tight pussy.

Gripping my cock with one hand
and her hip with the other, I lower her onto me, eliciting a smile from her
half-open mouth.

She sighs, as if impaling herself
with my cock brings her some kind of relief, and with her hands on my
shoulders, she rides me.

Wild.

Uninhibited.

Carefree.

She’s not the girl she pretends
to be.

That much I know for sure.

There’s so much more to her than
people realize.

There’s so much more to her than
she
realizes…

We fuck for hours, like
it’s
fucking meditation or some shit. It never ends. It’s
tantric. Hungry. Carnal.

Just before the sun comes up, we
crash, naked and spent, and neither of us says a word.

We’re completely in the moment.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t
glad it happened.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t
want it to happen again.

But it can’t.

And it won’t.

“Have a good weekend?” Thad
hovers by the coffee pot in the break room Monday morning, stirring a packet of
sugar into a steaming mug. I didn’t see him drink a single cup last week but
now that I’m standing here, he clearly needs an excuse to linger.

“I did.” Heat rises to my cheeks,
as if the things I did all weekend with Titan are broadcasting across my
forehead for
all the
world to see.

“What’d you do?”

“Um, well.” I sip my drink. I’ve
never been good at coming up with lies on the spot. “I mostly spent it with
family.”

There.

That’s the safest answer.

Titan’s not exactly family, and
I’m not exactly about to detail the earth-shattering sex I had over and over
with a convicted felon.

“Ah,” he says, following me down
the hall. “You see that new Bond movie?”

“Nope.”

“Want to go this week?”

“I’m not really into those
movies.” I offer an apologetic smile and stop when we get to the far hall.
Gabriela’s office is in the opposite direction of Kent’s. “I should get going.
Kent’s probably wondering where I am.”

Yeah. Right. I get here before he
does most days, but Thad doesn’t have to know that.

“We don’t have to see a movie.”
Thad’s relentless.

I’m flattered.

“It’s probably against protocol
for us to date,” I say, glancing around.

It’s definitely against protocol
for me to screw someone ‘on paper.’

“Who said anything about dating.
We could hang out. See what happens. No pressure.” Thad flashes a smile fit for
an Abercrombie model. Dimples. Blindingly white. Perfect.

“I know what hanging out leads
to…”

“One of these days you’re going
to stop resisting me,” Thad says with a wink.

“Is that supposed to be charming
because you added a wink to the end of a creepy statement?” I tease. “You know
if one of my sex offender clients said something like that, he’d probably be
sent back to prison?”

“Good thing I’m not a sex offender.”
He winks again.

“Okay, that was extremely
creepy.” I bat him away before stepping back. “I’m going to pretend this entire
conversation didn’t happen, because I don’t know if I can look at you the same
after this.”

“Good,” he says, walking backward.
His coffee mug rests in his hand, full and untouched. “It never happened, which
means I never asked you out and you never said no.”

I lift a brow, cocking my head
and laughing and messing with my hair. I’m unsure if I should be nervous or
flattered, but I’m definitely both.

He’s going to ask me out again. I
think that’s what he means.

But I’m going to say no.

And I’m going to keep saying no.

I don’t want Thad.

I don’t want safe or boring.

I want excitement.

***

I get off work late Monday night.
Kent sloughed off on paperwork all day and dumped it on me around four when I
made the mistake of asking if he needed help with anything.

Rookie mistake.

Never say you’re bored at work.
Ever.

I pass by a burger joint on my
way home from work and pull into the drive. It’s dinnertime, and based on what
I saw in Titan’s kitchen over the weekend, he’s subsisting off ramen, canned
soups, and saltines.

Ten minutes later, I’m trekking
up the steps to his apartment, a bag of warm food tucked into the crook of my
elbow. I’m smiling for some crazy reason, but I wipe it off and wear a straight
face the second I knock on his door.

The door swings open after thirty
seconds, Titan standing there in his unbuttoned, grease-stained work shirt and
dirty gray pants. He must’ve just gotten home.

“Hungry?” I hope up the bag.

He glances from me to the bag and
back, scratching above his ear.

“What’s all this?” he asks.

I push past him, showing myself
in and unloading everything on the table by his window.

“You don’t have any food here,” I
say.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Ramen doesn’t count. You’re not
a college student. You need real food.”

He seems annoyed. It wasn’t quite
the reaction I expected. I probably shouldn’t tell him about the bag of fresh
linens and towels in the trunk of my car…

We spent all of Friday night into
Saturday morning between his cheap, scratchy sheets, and when it came time to
shower, he had two thin towels I’m sure cost less than a cup of coffee each.

These are all things he needs.

He’s lucky I didn’t grab candles
and wall art and mirrors and a clock like I’d wanted. His place is sparse with
walls the color of dirt. It’s dingy. Depressing. He needs color.

“What, you think just because I
fucked you again you’re my girlfriend now?” His hands hook his hips. He won’t
come near me, though the scent of the burgers and fries fills the room. I know
he wants to eat, but he won’t allow himself to even look at the bag.

“Stop being stubborn and come sit
down. It’s getting cold.”

“You can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?”

“Pretend like you’re my
girlfriend.”

“Stop being an asshole. Sit.
Down.”

He stomps toward me, yanking out
a table and dropping down. His double burger is small in his dirty hands, and
he eats it in three bites.

“I knew you were hungry.” I throw
him a smile and a nod.

“Don’t do this again,” he says.

“I can’t make any promises.”

“It’d be in your best interest to
find yourself a new charity case.” He crumples the wax paper in his hand and
shoves it back in the bag before jamming a handful of fries in his mouth.

“You eat like a heathen,” I
tease.

“Old habits die hard.”

Countless prison documentaries
mention dining hall culture. If the guys don’t wolf their food down, someone
else will. It isn’t uncommon for fights to break out when one inmate steals food
from another. The men have to eat quickly and get the hell out of there.

It’s heartbreaking to think of
them as a bunch of hungry, junkyard dogs fighting for sustenance.

A week before Titan was released,
I was searching in one of the hall closets. Okay. I was being nosy. I wanted to
see what he looked like. His father had taken down all of Titan’s pictures in
the house. Trying to talk to Lewis about Titan was like pulling teeth too. It
was as if the word “Titan” was forbidden while he was away.

I came across an old scrapbook
Titan’s mother must’ve assembled from when he was in high school.

Titan 1.0 was a track star. Class
president. Clean cut.
Clearly popular.
His prom dates
were beautiful and his smile was wide and carefree in almost every picture. If
I had to guess, I’d say
that
Titan
died the day his mother and sister did.

The man before me is damaged and
bitter. Content to be lonely. He’s thorny and happily so. He thinks he doesn’t
need anyone, but he’d be wrong.

We’re social creatures. We’re not
meant to be alone, and we’re certainly not meant to go through life on our own.

“What?” Titan says, and I realize
I’ve been staring at him.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

He doesn’t believe me I’m sure,
but he doesn’t pry. Instead he rises and treks to his bathroom. The door shuts
and the water runs a minute later. He’s showering. My food is only half-eaten
now.

I make an executive decision and
run downstairs to quickly grab the bags of things I bought for him. I didn’t
spend an afternoon at Target for nothing. He can take these things or leave
them, but either way they’re his.

When I return, I fully intend on
leaving the bags on the foot of his unmade bed and getting out of there, but
he’s already done showering and standing in the middle of his apartment in
nothing but a towel.

“What’s that?” he asks in a
punishing tone.

“Just a few things,” I say. Only
now am I realizing how silly this looks. “I was at the store yesterday, and I
grabbed you some new sheets and towels. The ones you had were cheap, and they
were having a really good sale.”

I can make all the excuses I
want, but he’s not going to buy a single one.

He grabs the bags, peering inside
and examining the contents before swiping them out of my hand.

“Goddamn it, Jordana.” His arms
fall to his sides as our eyes lock. “Stop doing this. Stop being so…fucking
nice.”

My arms cross. “Sorry.”

I don’t mean it. I’m not sorry at
all.

I feel sorry for him though. If
he’s too bullheaded to accept kind gestures, that’s on him.

“Do you realize how emasculating
this is?” His face twists as he drops the bags to the floor. “Having some
twenty-two year old Oprah-wannabe running out and buying me basic necessities
like I can’t provide them for myself. I’m working, Jordana. I have money. I
have a job. I have my own place. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I’m
saving my money? I don’t need your handouts. If I want a goddamn burger, I can
run out and get one. I don’t need you to take care of me.”

His voice booms, filling the
small apartment and jolting my heart. I’ve seen him gruff before, but not
angry. Not like this.

“I’m sorry.” I mean it this time.
“I had no idea. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel like you’re less than a
man. I thought I was being kind. I just wanted to help. I…”

My voice trails until my words no
longer make sense.

“I should go.” I turn on my heel.
A few more steps, and I’ll be gone. I’ll never bother him again. Clearly my
gestures are unappreciated and misunderstood with him. It’s one giant waste of
time.

Seconds before my hand reaches
the knob, his arm catches mine. He pulls me toward him before backing me
against a nearby wall.

“You want to help?” he seethes,
burying his head into my shoulder. His minty breath is cool against my neck as
his fingers tangle in my hair.

My heart pounds in my ears. I
can’t speak, so I nod.

“Stop parading around here,
trying to find excuses to come and see me. Stop offering yourself to me when
you and I both know damn well you’ve got no business doing it,” he breathes. “I
don’t have time for games. I don’t have time to get caught up in some shit with
you.”

He pulls away but cups my face in
his hands. They smell like soap and the tiniest hint of grease. I pretend not
to notice the way his tongue slips past the crack in his lips as he studies my
mouth.

“I know I have no business being with
you,” I whisper. “But I’m drawn to you. Over and over again and despite my
better judgment.”

“You could lose everything if
you’re caught with me. You know that right?”

“I know.”

I hang my head but he lifts it,
forcing our eyes to lock.

“I enjoyed last weekend,” he
says, straightening his shoulders and clearing his throat. “But we can’t.
You and me?
Not happening. Not in the cards.”

The empty, sinking feeling in
my the
pit of my belly gnaws me from the inside. That’s what
it is. That’s why I seek him out. I feel empty. He fills me. Titan fills parts
of me I never knew were empty.

Maybe it’s the allure, the danger
mixed with excitement and newness. Whatever it is, I’m a moth drawn to his
flame again and again.

I know full well it’s only a
matter of time before I’m burned, but it’s a risk I have to take. Being with
Titan breathes life into my bones.

He brings the buried parts of me
to life.

“I’ve played it safe my whole
life,” I say. “And my whole life, I’ve never really lived. I want to walk into
darkness and not know what’s going to be on the other side. I want to do
something that scares me for the first time in my life.”

“I scare you,” he says.

I bite my lip and exhale. “Yeah.
You do.”

“What scares you about me?”

“Everything.” I sigh. “Mostly
that I can’t figure you out.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be figured
out.”

“Everyone needs someone who
understands them.”

“Not me.”

“Then what do you need, Titan?
You’ve got to need something.”

“I need to get my shit together
so I can get on with my life.” He steps away, releasing me from his hold. My
body shivers without his heat to keep me warm. He yanks a pair of clean jeans
and a t-shirt from a folded stack on his kitchen counter and drops his towel,
dressing in front of me. “I’m getting out of here. I’m saving my money and
getting out of here.
Gonna
finish school. Get a job.”