Better When He's Bad Page 12

  “I don’t even understand it.”

  “That cop, who is he to you?”

  “No one.”

  “Bax.”

  I growled—actually growled—and stomped over to her. I put my palms on the freezer so that she was caged in my arms. I don’t know if I wanted to scare her, intimidate her, or just fall into those forest-colored eyes and leave the harsh reality of who I was behind for just a minute.

  “I need to know,” she said.

  Probably, but I didn’t want to be the one to tell her. She reached up between us and put her hands on both of my bristly cheeks. I couldn’t look away from the lure of the pleading in her evergreen-tinted gaze.

  “Race called me that night and said Novak had a job. An Aston Martin Vanquish up on the Hill. I didn’t want to do it. Those cars are high end, which means security is top-notch. I told him no, not only because it was risky, but because we were supposed to be working on getting out of the game. Novak was taking bigger risks, calling on Race for more and more errands, and it was all getting too deep and too tangled.”

  I was breathing hard and drifting back in time, even though she was trying to hold me on to the present.

  “Race called me back a couple hours later and told me I didn’t understand. We had to get the car. We didn’t have a choice. Either I went or he was going to have to go alone. Race is great with security systems, with car alarms, the LoJack and the digital systems that cops can override, but he’s not a thief. He’s not a car guy, so if he had to go on his own, it would’ve ended badly.”

  I blinked, trying to make sense of it still. “I should’ve asked, Why? Why that car? Why that night? Why it HAD to get done, but I didn’t want Race to risk his neck for no reason, so I met him on the Hill and went to work.”

  I pulled away from her and walked over to lean against the sink.

  “Race was weird, nervous and twitchy. I kept asking what was going on with him but he kept telling me we just needed the car, Novak was being really specific about it. We got in the gate, got through the security on the garage, and the car was there, all shiny and beautiful, just like it was supposed to be. I would be a liar if I didn’t say I was looking forward to taking it, to getting behind the wheel.”

  I could still see the perfect black paint and smell the flawless leather interior. I let my head drop and closed my eyes. I had to rub the back of my neck to keep going.

  “I told Race to do his thing, get me in the car, but he just looked at me. I knew something was wrong, that it wasn’t just a simple boost. Before I knew it, we’re in the house and forcing the guy that lived there, some rich old bastard, into the car and heading back down to the District to meet Novak. I kept asking what was going on, who the old guy was, but Race just kept saying he was sorry and that I didn’t understand. He kept saying over and over he would pay me back, but I didn’t know what he meant. We get to the meet-up spot, Novak is there, Benny is there, and the old guy is freaking out. I wanted to hand the keys over, get out and never look back, and the next thing I know the cops are there, like every cop in the damn city descends on us. Bullets start flying, everyone scatters, and Race vanished as I took off in the car.

  “I remember my blood pumping, the smell of rubber burning, sirens, and the look of sorrow on Race’s face as I tried to outrun the cops. I would’ve made it too, would’ve disappeared in the night and gotten away scot-free but I was worried about ditching Race, distracted by the entire shit show, and I lost control, skidded, and slammed the car into a telephone pole, knocking myself silly and giving the cops plenty of time to catch up to me.

  “I asked the cop that pulled me out of the car where Race was, trying to figure out what was going on. Over and over again I screamed at the cop why. Titus was the arresting officer, he’s also my half brother. He put me in the back of the police cruiser, told me the old guy was dead, I was getting arrested for grand theft auto and evading arrest, and I would be lucky if I didn’t have kidnapping and accessory-to-murder charges leveled at me. I asked to talk to Race. I needed to know how things had gone so bad, why we had jacked the old man, what was going on, and Titus just told me I would understand later. He’s the only reason I did a five-year term and not a fifteen.”

  I cleared my throat and finally lifted my head to look back up at her. She had tears in her eyes and looked as uneasy as I felt. I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me. I did bad shit and got caught. That was just part of the game. It was the betrayal from the only person in life I had ever totally trusted that twisted me up and left a bad taste in my mouth.

  “Titus knew where the deal was going down. Race called him. He sent me to prison on purpose, I need to know why. He let Novak kill that man, facilitated it. I need to figure out if he’s gone, turned into one of them or not. Race was working his own angle that night. I need to know what it was.”

  She whispered my name and moved so she could squeeze herself between me and the counter, which was still littered with the groceries we never put away. She put one arm around my neck and the other over where my heart was thudding in my chest.

  “He must have had a good reason. You’re his best friend. He didn’t become one of them, because he came after me as soon as you went away. It all has to be tied together. Race isn’t a bad guy, and I don’t think you really are either.”

  She was wrong. Pressing her hard into the counter, I used my forearm to send the grocery bags flying to the floor. They rattled and clanged across the tiles as I grabbed her around her tiny waist and lifted her onto the counter so we were eye-to-eye and I could insert myself between her legs.

  “You’re wrong. If he set me up because he was too stupid to get out from under Novak, or because he was scared or caught up in something nasty, I’ll destroy him and I won’t regret it.”

  She didn’t look away from me, and like it was a sign from up above telling me I had done my time and deserved just a few moments with this precious, difficult girl, I noticed one of the boxes of condoms had survived the crash to the floor and was still on the counter within reach.

  “So tell me, Bax, what reason could Race give that will make this all okay? Is there one? Really?”

  I felt my jaw clench and the corner of my eye twitch. I had spent five years thinking that very thing and the only answer I had come up with that was acceptable was, “If it was all just Race trying to save me from myself, like he always seemed to be doing, I can understand that.”

  “I don’t think you will—destroy him, I mean. I don’t think you could live with yourself if you did.”

  She didn’t know me well enough to say that, but I was about to show her just how far and how fast I was willing to go when I wanted something. She had no idea the devastation I could bring with very little effort. I was good at it. I reveled in it more often than not.

  I saw her suck in a breath as I hooked a finger under the top button of her top and popped it open. I lifted an eyebrow to see if she was going to say anything, and when she didn’t, I gripped both sides of her shirt in my fists and ruined it by pulling it apart. The tiny plastic buttons pinged off the appliances and the floor. She made a face at me that had her wrinkling up her freckled nose. How on earth had I thought she was boring? She was like sunshine and warmth all wrapped up in a porcelain package blessed with the greatest tits I had ever seen. I never would’ve thought I was a freckle guy, but damn, I sure liked hers.

  “You know that was my only shirt.”

  I tugged it down her arms and tossed the remnants out of my way. Her bra followed, leaving her bare from the waist up and looking like an ivory-skinned dream. I had seen a lot of hot girls in my time, girls who made a living based on how pretty they could look, how sexy they came across to the opposite sex, but none of them held a candle to Dovie and her primitive and untouched beauty.

  “I threw a couple T-shirts in with my junk while you were pouting.”

  I got my hands under the gap at the top of her too-big pants and worked the fastener open and got the zipp
er down. I felt the baby-soft skin of her abdomen quiver against the back of my battered knuckles, but she lifted her hips without a question when I urged her up so I could get the rest of her clothes off, leaving her totally naked and pinned to the counter in front of me. Her hands were resting on either side of her naked thighs, her green eyes were huge in her face, and she was chewing on her bottom lip hard enough that I saw a drop of blood. She was all kinds of virtuousness and way too good for all the things I was bound to do to her.

  “You are going to regret this when I prove to you everything you think about me is wrong.”

  She lifted a hand and traced the star next to my eye with the dull edge of her fingernail.

  “No, I’m not. You are not a mistake.”

  Maybe I would just have to show her.

  I yanked her with greedy hands and very little finesse to the very edge of the counter so she was pressed up as tightly as she could be with my erection. I put my hands on her bare ass and kissed her, not like you kissed a woman you wanted to seduce, but like a woman you wanted to own and imprint yourself on forever. There was something heady, powerful about having her totally naked and at my mercy while I was still fully clothed and looming over her. I wasn’t into all that power and domination crap, but with her, man, I could play lord and master all day long if she was into it.

  I got one of my hands wrapped in her mass of curly hair and bent her back over my arm so that all her softness was grinding into my hardness. I moved my tongue in and out of her mouth, used my teeth on her, held her still while I ate her up and sucked her in. She felt so good, so clean and pristine, I wanted to mark her up from her head to her toes. She whimpered a little when I got a little overzealous sucking on her bottom lip, and moved to wrap her long legs around my waist.

  She tugged my shirt up and off over my head, letting it fall with hers to the littered and now messy kitchen floor. I saw her eyes immediately go to my side where blood was slowly leaking out from under the thick bandage she had put there earlier. I saw the hesitation flash in her gaze and caught her hand as she went to reach for it. I turned it palm side up and put a kiss there. She jerked her eyes up to mine as I closed her fingers over the gesture.

  “Don’t. That’s just part of being me.”

  She wanted to say something, to argue, but there was no way I was letting her get distracted from the point I was trying to make, or the point that was trying to poke out over the edge of my pants. I took her other hand and put it on the buckle of my belt. I didn’t give her a chance to go back to my injury. I pressed her back as far as she would go, arching her delicate spine across my arm where it was braced behind her and thrusting her flat-out perfect breasts up and into my eagerly waiting mouth. She was the sweetest thing I had ever had my lips on. I loved the way her nipples pebbled up on my tongue like a berry. I felt her fingernails dig into my scalp on the back of my shoulder. She said my name on a breathless murmur, and I didn’t even care that she called me Shane.

  I moved my legs farther apart, forcing her legs open wider and got a hand down between us to see if she was ready for me. She was so small down there, all damp and coiled like she was ready to fire at the barest touch. She felt like silk and cream, I had to fight back a groan when she clutched down on my fingers. I ran my tongue across the hollow between her breasts, gobbled up her skin, put red sucking marks on every freckle I could find. By the time I got to the tip of her other breast, she was grinding against my stroking fingers and pulling me closer with her heels in my ass.

  Her hair was engulfing the arm I was using to hold her up, and the hand I had put on my dick earlier had lost its way and was clutching at my ribs. I was going to send her over the edge, take her apart before I got to lose myself in her alabaster body. She snapped her eyes open and pulled on my chin with one hand until I looked up at her. I pressed my thumb down hard on her clit and watched her break apart right before my eyes. It was awesome. It was powerful. It gave me a rush that topped taking any car I could ever remember. She was just that delicate and fragile-looking under my broken hands. I never really cared about what I gave the chicks I was with before her, but for some reason, I felt like anytime she let me get my hands on her, I had to make it count.

  “Shane . . .” Her voice was a whisper. Her eyes heavy-lidded and satiated. She roused herself enough to get her hands on my belt and work the heavy buckle open. She flicked it to the side and pulled the zipper down. I had to grunt a little and help her out because her body pressed up against mine and her little whimpers of pleasure had my cock ready to break free of the fabric on its own, and the teeth of my fly were its mortal enemy. I got my pants open and let her wiggle them down around my hips and ass along with my boxers. I was still way more covered than she was, but the checkered flags tattooed along either side of my groin were suddenly on display. They seemed to have her full and undivided attention, as did my raging erection, standing proudly between the two of them.

  I grunted at her and bent her over so I could reach across her to get the box of condoms. When I leaned against her and all her wet heat pressed against my naked cock, I almost blacked out.

  I swore and looked down at her. She lifted a rusty eyebrow at me and twined her arms around my neck. The hard tips of her breasts pressed into my chest and her thighs clasped me to her core like she was never going to let me go. I got out a rubber and ripped the package open with my teeth. It was a little tricky making room between where we were pressed together to get it all situated, but I really didn’t want to separate from where her body felt like it was trying to melt me into her, make me a part of her forever.

  I put my hands flat on the counter on either side of her head where her hair was spread out around her like a blanket of fire. I watched her as I put just the tip in, just the faintest hint of my cock inside her fluttering opening.

  A small grin kicked up the corner of her mouth and I wanted to kiss it off of her.

  “This is the finish line?”

  I had never been with anyone like her, felt like someone else was my very own. I knew I wasn’t her first, but when I pushed into her, seated myself into her burning core, I swore she was brand-new and all mine. She arched up against me and I didn’t have to worry about kissing her smile because she attacked my mouth like a wild woman. She slid her tongue along the roof of my mouth and clamped her legs around my sides, which was murder on my wound but drove me all the way into her, and had us both gasping at the burn and pulse of the contact. I pulled away from the bite of her teeth and buried my nose in the curve of her neck. The clasp and pull of her body had me losing control and thrusting into her so hard, I moved both of us across the countertop. She was totally splayed flat and her head was hanging off the other side of it.

  I felt her hands dig into my shoulders, felt her chest heave against and retreat from mine. She was slick, and tight, grinding against me and fluttering all along my anxious dick. I had zero finesse, zero tact, and zero interest in anything but getting to the end. I bit the tendon in her shoulder where her vein was throbbing under my mouth. She threw her head violently to the side, muttered something way too nasty to come out of that too-pretty mouth, and I felt all her inner muscles clamp down on me and try and keep me from ever leaving her. That was it for me.

  I grabbed her hips hard enough that there would no doubt be marks when I let her go, and pounded into her. I’d hooked up more than my fair share since getting my freedom back, but none of it was like this. I felt desperate, needy, wanting. I could feel every part of her—her skin, her mouth, her hair, her inner walls milking and working me over. There was no holding out, no making it last and making sure she got as good as I was getting. I said her name like it was a curse and pulled her back across the counter so we were plastered together, front to front. I kissed the living shit out of her as I came harder than I ever had in my life. I kissed her until neither of us could breathe. Kissed her until she was pulling at my ears to get me to let her go. Kissed her until I felt her start to shimmy and quake a
round my dick. Kissed her until I sent her back over the edge while I tried to get my wits and rationality back. I kissed her like I knew there were only a limited number of times she was going to let me do it, and I was going to make each one a memory.

  It took a minute for both of us to catch our breath, to come back down. I pulled my head up from her neck and dropped my forehead down so it was touching hers.

  “That . . .” My voice sounded like I was gargling with acid. “That is the finish line.”

  She snorted out a cute little laugh and opened her mouth to reply when a phone trilled from somewhere on the floor. I sighed and pulled out of her. I situated myself as best as I could and reached down to the pile of discarded clothes. I handed her my shirt and dug around until I found her phone. She hopped off the counter and picked her way around the carnage of the groceries on the floor. I made my way to the bathroom to situate my junk and to look at my seriously throbbing side.

  The cut looked like it was seeping and oozing, but there was a decent crust of a scab starting to build up on the edges of it. Since Dovie wouldn’t help, I popped the lid off one of the tubes of superglue and slimed the burning liquid over the nasty cut myself. It felt like pouring boiling oil on my skin, but the blood stopped as soon as the clear liquid started to dry. I was probably going to end up with a raging infection and it wouldn’t be gangsters or my life of crime that ended up doing me in. It would be gangrene.

  I was washing my hands and throwing the wreckage of the bandage in the trash when she propped herself up in the doorway. My shirt covered most of her up, but it was hard to look away from those legs when I knew she was naked underneath.

  “That was the group home I work at. One of the other monitors got sick and they need me to cover. I usually only stay every other weekend, but they need me to stay over tonight and tomorrow.”

  That meant I wouldn’t see her until sometime Monday. Why that made me annoyed I didn’t know. I nodded at her and ran my hands roughly over my short hair.