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Authors: J. D. Hawkins

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College

Confessions of a Bad Boy (10 page)

BOOK: Confessions of a Bad Boy
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Or maybe I’m just too drunk.

Deep into the night, people start filtering away from the table. Some go to their rooms, some go back to the bar to carry on drinking, the rest are too busy engaged in intense, private conversations to even notice. Then I get a text from Kyle giving me shit for the new Bad Boy video I just uploaded-
“Restraint, dude? Never thought I’d see the day! Who is she?”
Panic hits me. Instead of writing back, I turn my phone on silent mode so the guilt won’t take over every time my phone buzzes. I’ll have to come up with a good explanation for Kyle later, maybe blame my blue balls on being at a ‘professional’ work event all weekend.

“You tired?” I say to Jessie, after we’ve been staring at each other and smiling in the buzz of the alcohol.

“I dunno,” she shrugs, before taking another sip.

“Wanna take a walk? Get some fresh air?”

“Sure.”

We get up and move away from the lights under the canopy, into the dark night and the citrus trees and grapevines surrounding the retreat. Where even the air seems intoxicatingly filled with aromas. We take a small path that gives us a view of the mountains, silhouetted against the deep indigo sky, and soon we can’t even see the lights of the retreat anymore. We step slowly, not really caring about getting anywhere, just enjoying the moment, the crunch under our feet, the sound of insects making music in the dark.

“You were pretty fantastic back there,” I say after a while.

Jessie laughs suddenly with surprise.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Everybody loved you. I mean, I was a little worried. You’re younger than them, new here, and these aren’t the easiest people to impress. But you did. What was that Tom was saying?”

Jessie laughs again.

“He was talking about how I’d be perfect for a supporting part in a film he’s making. I don’t think he was being serious.”

“I think he was. Tom’s not the kind of guy to say stuff like that and not mean it – even when he’s drunk he’ll hold you to a deal.”

“I don’t know…I’m no actress.”

“You could have fooled me back in there.”

“That wasn’t acting,” she says, going serious. “It was just…me.”

We carry on walking a while as the path curls around, savoring the smells, the silence, the slight edginess of being in the dark.

“It’s weird,” I say suddenly, my thoughts spilling out of my mouth.

“What is?”

“You. Them. All of it.”

“How is that weird? I don’t understand.”

“I used to think of you as a little girl. The one who hangs around. The one who’s always a few years away from knowing the things that I know. But today…today it’s like we’re on an equal footing.”

“You mean you can’t look down on me anymore?” Jessie teases through a smile.

I take a deep breath, wondering if it’s the wine, the night air, or…something else.

“It’s just weird that…sitting at that table, it’s so obvious how smart and talented you are. How dedicated you are. How much you belong at the top of your field. And yet, you’re the only one at that table who isn’t…what does that say about this industry?”

Jessie snorts a laugh, but I can hear the note of sadness buried under the dismissal.

“It says what people like me have known for a long time; that Hollywood – the world, even – isn’t fair.” Her voice trails off, and I can sense I’ve hit a nerve.

“Maybe so. But you’re great at what you do, and you deserve better than where you’re at, and someday it’s all gonna work out, Jessie. I know it. It’s my job to know these things.”

She hides behind her hair a little, suddenly shy. “That’s just the drink talking.”

“No. No it isn’t. If I was sober I might not be saying it – but I’d still be thinking it.”

We follow the path a little longer as it brings us back towards the pool, tucked around the corner from the dining table, which is now empty. The last waiters are wiping down the wine stains and heading inside.

Jessie stops and looks up at the stars, smiling. I gaze at the softness of her throat, the feminine arc of her shoulders, suddenly experiencing the wooziness of the alcohol once again.

“It’s such a pretty night,” she says wistfully.

“You want to stay out a little longer?”

Jessie looks at me. “I want to go for a swim.”

“Are you serious?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

It’s the kind of spontaneous suggestion Jessie used to make all the time when we were kids. I immediately feel like I’m a teenager again, being dragging into trouble by Jessie’s sense of adventure. But just like I used to back then, I’m only pretending that I don’t think it’s a good idea to get into a little mischief.

I look around casually. “So go ahead. I’ll watch.”

“No. You get in first,” Jessie says, already tugging her skirt down, and the only thing stopping me from studying her body is the fact that she’s looking at me just as intensely.

“No. I’m not swimming. The water’s probably freezing.”

Jessie grins mischievously as she pulls off her top and I fail to keep my eyes away from her breasts.

“Don’t be a baby, Nate. Are you still a terrible swimmer?”

“What? I’ve never been a terrible swimmer.”

“Sure you were. You have four and a half years on me, Nate, and I could still always outswim you. Even when we were kids.”

“Ha! I’ve heard of alcohol making you forget things – but I didn’t think it caused you to make shit up.”

“Come
on
, Nate! You remember. I’d challenge you to catch me before I reached the other side of the pool. And you never did.”

I snort. “You challenged me once, and I definitely did catch you.”

Jessie backs away towards the edge of the pool, looking undeniably luscious in her matching lace bra and panties. “Prove it. I
dare
you.”

It’s the magic word. The word that got me into a lot of bad situations – and just as many great ones. A word that, for whatever reason, stokes a kind of pride in me that makes me puff out my chest. Maybe it was never actually the word, but just the way she said it. Either way, she knows she’s got me.

She turns gracefully and dives so elegantly into the water she barely makes a splash. In the split-second that she’s in the air, all the reasons I shouldn’t dive in after her flash through my mind: The fact that I’m half drunk. The fact that I’d ruin thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes. The fact that we’re at a retreat filled with professionals who could make or break my career. And mostly, the fact that I’ve been dangerously attracted to this woman since we got here.

But all those reasons disappear the second I think them. Jessie knows I can’t resist a dare – I never could. Off go my shoes, socks, shirt and finally pants until I’m standing in my boxer-briefs with my pulse pounding in my ears. When I look across the pool, I see Jessie watching me, her nearly naked body silhouetted by the underwater lights, and our eyes lock for a single electric moment. Kyle’s text earlier flashes through my mind like a warning sign, and I feel myself wavering.

“Do it,” Jessie coaxes, her voice a mixture of challenging and enticing.

That decides it.

I take a run-up of a couple of strides and fly into the water. It’s warm and soft, and I lash through it, hearing Jessie’s laughter mix with the splashing of water. I glance up and see how far ahead she is, before submerging my head and swimming powerfully to catch up.

I grab her waist just before she reaches the other end, spinning her around and pressing her back against the side of the pool. My arms cling to the edge of it around her head, our faces inches from each as we smile and pant.

“Got you,” I say.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to ignore the primal call of your own male pride.”

I look into her eyes as we bob in the water, the dim light of the retreat refracting over her wet skin, outlining the femininity of her face, the wetness of her lips. It might be the most beautiful I’ve ever seen a woman. Something tightens in me like a screw, pulls at my lust like a magnet. Her chest rises with every hard breath, her gaze softening innocently.

It seems to happen in slow-motion, as inevitable and as powerful as things falling to the ground when you let them go. Every voice inside of me telling me that this is wrong, that this is a bad idea, that I shouldn’t let my instincts take over, it all becomes a distant echo in the presence of those lips. They’re too perfect. Too close.

Our lips touch, soft and wet. I close my eyes and the moment becomes nothing but sensations. The slow wrap of her arms around me, her hands in my hair. The tremble of her torso as my hands tighten around her waist. The slow exploration of our tongues touching, then the increasing pressure of my hardening bulge against the invitation between her legs.

“Excuse me?”

The voice feels like an alarm clock in a dream. Something that doesn’t belong. As if we were the last people on earth. We break apart recklessly. Jessie lets out an awkward laugh, hurriedly moving as far away from me as possible.

“Sorry,” the porter says, looking sheepish. “We’re turning the lights off outside, so maybe…”

“Sure, sure,” I say quickly. “We’re coming.”

The porter leaves, and as Jessie and I leave the pool in chilly silence, the nighttime air feels a lot colder.

9
Jessie

T
here’s
a weird vibe as we make our way back to the room, dripping on the hallway carpeting all the way. At first it feels like if we stay silent then what just happened might be forgotten, but after a while, the fact that we’re not talking about it becomes even more awkward.

“It must be pretty late,” I say, as casually as possible.

“Yeah,” Nate replies, doing just as poor a job of being nonchalant. “Yeah, it is.”

We get into our room and suddenly I wince, realizing once again that there’s only the king-size bed.

“Do you want to use the shower?” Nate asks.

“Um, you go first.”

“I’ll be quick.”

While he disappears I start looking for a few sheets and pillows to make a bed on the floor. After a few minutes, Nate comes out wearing a pair of boxers and a white tee that clings to his perfectly sculpted chest. I can feel my face heating, so I nod politely, grab my nightclothes, and step past him as if we’re two strangers in an office hallway.

It’s only when I’m standing in the shower, hot water making my body come alive, that I stop to think about what just happened. A weird mixture of guilt and lust swirl inside me, each one making the other stronger. I cringe a little when I think about putting my hand on the back of his head, biting his lower lip, letting him put his hands on my bare skin…but at the same time I feel a warmth between my thighs that isn’t coming from the water.

Suddenly becoming incredibly self-conscious about spending so much time in the shower, I get out and dry myself off in a hurry. After I get dressed in the bathroom, I take a deep breath and step back into the room.

Nate’s already lying on the makeshift bed I made on the floor, playing with his phone.

“I don’t mind taking the floor,” I say to him.

“It’s cool,” Nate says, putting his phone to the side. “It’s good for my back, anyway.”

Ordinarily I’d force the issue. Ordinarily the preconception that the ‘guy’ should always take the floor would bug me. Shit, ordinarily I’d just invite Nate to share the bed with me.

Maybe I should invite Nate to share the bed with me.

Fuck. Isn’t there supposed to be an angel to go along with the devil on your shoulder?

I step past him towards the bed, pretending to pick something from my baggy t-shirt so I don’t have to look at him. Bringing only an old band tee and some underwear to wear at night suddenly seems like a bad idea, but the thought flickers across my mind that he might be checking out my bare legs, and it’s not entirely unwanted…

“Night, Nate,” I say, pulling up the covers and reaching for the wall-mounted room light.

“Night,” he says, and I spend the next ten minutes thinking about the way he said it, wondering if it can reveal anything about his mood.

Rather than bury the room in black, turning off the light leaves faint-blue traces of moonlight around the room, making everything look dreamlike and not-quite-real. The fabric of the curtains seems to shimmer as they move in the quiet breeze. Every sound is amplified now, every rustling of the bedsheets, every turn of the head; even my breathing sounds like it’s way too loud.

More than that, my body starts feeling like nuclear material; hot and active. I’m tired, still a little drunk, and glad to be out of my wet clothes – but at the same time I don’t think I’ve ever felt more awake. As I shift in the bed, trying to get comfortable, every limb suddenly feels prickly. I rub my thighs together but stop myself when I realize I’m just making myself hornier.

All I can think about is Nate. The fact that he’s so close, that he’s already kissed me, that my body’s still shaking all over from the way his torso pressed me against the side of the pool. Lying at the foot of the bed, his hard muscles and gorgeous face so close to me, and yet there’s nothing I can do about it. My body’s throbbing with unresolved energy, tension and stress that needs to be released, and the one thing that can offer me that relief is lying on his back in the same room, completely untouchable.

It feels like hours pass. Hours in which I go from trying to deny the deep yearning for him, to wondering what I’d do if he stood up and got in bed alongside me. After a while I’m visualizing it, fantasizing about it, willing it like a prayer. A little later and I’m already making my excuses – I’ll say I was drunk, I’ll tell him not to mention it again, we’ll agree to forget it just like last time.

I wait a few more seconds, as if giving my body one last chance to calm down, to stop burning for him, then slide the covers aside, and get up. I step slowly around the bed until I’m standing at his feet.

He’s awake. I can see the sparkle of his eyes in the moonlight. He’s awake, and he’s watching me. He pushes away his sheets and I see he’s just wearing his boxers, the hard hump in them admitting everything. He sits up a little and gazes as I take my shirt off and stand there for a second, allowing him to see me before I kneel down and straddle him.

“Jessie…”

I grab his head with my hands and pull his face towards me, our foreheads together.

“Shh…”

“This is wrong.”

I nip at his lips, taking them between my teeth and pulling at them, edgy and hot from the lust that’s built up inside of me.

“So fucking wrong,” I reply, as he nuzzles roughly into my neck.

“We shouldn’t…”

“I know.”

His hands grip my sides roughly. We lash at each other’s tongues as he takes my breast and kneads it, pinching my nipple and sending sweet tickles of pain reverberating throughout my body. I roll my hips over his bulge, every swing making him harder, turning his breath hard and quick.

I put my hands on his chest and press him down onto the floor, until he’s lying flat on his back, the perfection of his torso obvious even in the dim light. A sea of ridges and muscles unfurled in front of me like a beautiful landscape, an adventure I take with my tongue, rolling up from his navel, kissing at his chest. His hand grips my head, but I’m the one in control. I feel the quakes of his body under my searching tongue, feel the tensing of his muscles under my hands as he loses control, feel his cock struggle against his boxers.

“Jessie…fuck… We should stop. We should stop…”

I answer him with a moan, my fingers teasing his waistband, tugging impatiently at it.

“There’s a condom in my jeans,” he pants.

I sit up and reach over to his jeans, scratching around until I find it in his back pocket. He stares at me with hunger in his eyes, his hands going to my breasts again to pull and pinch as I tear open the packet.

Grabbing the sides of his boxers, I pull them down slowly, his hard dick springing out of them, already rock-hard, as big as the desire he’s feeling. I pull his boxers completely off, grab him, and give the shaft a long, slow lick, sucking softly at the tip, his gasps and moans rising and fading like smoke in the moonlight. Once I get the condom on him, I slide my panties down and move up his body, rolling my breasts along his torso. Big muscly arms grab at me, pulling me closer, until our lips finally meet, and our hot tongues connect like two points of fire. Merging and thrashing until we can’t tell where one of us ends and the other begins.

“Jessie…” he whispers in between our hungry kisses, deliciously messy in the dark. His hands grab and smack at my ass cheeks, reminding me of his strength. I roll myself over his groin and I can feel I’m already wet, my body aching, struggling with itself. The itch inside of me almost unbearable now. We struggle and move together, no longer separate, but a single animal trying to pull itself together. I can’t wait any longer. I reach down, grab his cock, and guide it into me with a gasp, the sensation of being filled arousing my desires and satisfying them at the same time.

“Give it to me, Nate. Give it to me,” I pant, feeling my body fall out of my control.

Nate pushes me up until I’m sitting on his cock, where he can play with my breasts, pull on my ass. He’s stiff and long inside of me, stroking at places I never knew existed. Deep enough to relieve the guilt, deep enough to make me forget any reason we shouldn’t be doing this.

“Take it, Jessie. Ride my cock. I wanna watch you move.”

I glance down at him and see his blue eyes studying me like I’m a goddess, worshipping my curves, adoring my movements, hypnotized and ravenous. The feeling spurs me on, and I roll over him, pussy squeezing and pulling at his cock. One hand against the solidness of his chest, the other in my hair, as if to stop me from getting too high.

“That’s good, Jessie,” Nate says, dropping his head back onto the pillow. “Real fucking good.”

My animal instincts take over, until I can’t think anymore, can’t even feel his hands on my breasts. My entire being collapses inwards, to where his big, burning cock is pounding into me with sensations that roll through my entire body in a series of tremors. I arch backwards, hands grasping at his muscled thighs for support, and something clicks, a button pushed, and I’m over the edge.

“Fuck, Nate! Oh my God, yes!”

Everything leaves my body at once, heat, lust, weight, the aching need that I’ve felt since we kissed in the pool. It torrents out of me, relieving me of everything that makes me who I am, turning me into nothing but a soft ball of bliss. I don’t realize I’m screaming until Nate’s hand closes softly over my mouth to muffle it, and I jerk forward onto his chest in a cold sweat as if from a dream, out-of-breath and empty. I rest my head on Nate’s shoulder, still moaning and trying to catch my breath as he hushes me, shh-ing softly into my ear. Then he wraps his arms around me, clinging to me, pulling me tight against him as he comes with a desperate groan. I feel the shudders of his body, the stutters of his breath, the coolness that follows it.

He sighs deeply, our chests rising and falling against each other, an understanding expressed more meaningfully than words. No need to move, no need to spoil this. The only thing left is to melt into each other.

BOOK: Confessions of a Bad Boy
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