Inked: A Bad Boy Next Door Romance

* * *

I
turn
on my side and face my window, waiting for him to come into view. I feel so naughty. So needy. This is turning into a bad habit.

I bite my lip as he moves his curtains so he can see me.

Our eyes meet, and the hunger I see in his makes every doubt disappear. I want him, and he wants me. There’s nothing wrong about that.

His lips turn up into a sexy smirk as his eyes roam my body. He takes his shirt off, his corded muscles rippling with the movement. He’s the epitome of power and sex. His jeans are slung low, and the urge to lick the deep “V” at his hips makes my legs scissor. My hand dips down to my pussy and I love that he sees. I love that he watches me.

“Covers off,” he mouths, and I obey. I’m wearing a tank top and a skimpy lace thong. He tilts his head and tsks. A small laugh escapes my lips as a blush creeps into my cheeks. I knew he’d want them off. But tonight I want him to take them off of me.

A few weeks ago I would’ve given him the finger and yanked my curtains closed. But not tonight, not now that I’ve become addicted to the inked-up bad boy next door.

“Come over.” I whisper my plea, and his eyes heat with desire.

“Get wet for me, peaches.” I smile shyly at his command and slowly push my fingers against my clit, massaging small circles over my throbbing nub. My head falls back against my pillow, and a faint moan escapes from my parted mouth. I turn my head to the side and with my eyes half-lidded, I watch him watching me.

“More,” he says in a deep, rough voice that makes arousal pool in my core. I make my movements faster and hold his heated gaze. His breath comes in shallow pants, and his hand pushes against the bulge in his jeans. I know he wants me. I want him, too.

“Please,” the word tumbles from my mouth as I feel my back bow and a hot tingle take over my body. My eyes close as I almost fall and crash with an intense orgasm, but it escapes me. I’m on edge. I
need
him.

I open my eyes, and he’s gone. I bite down on my lip and slow my movements. He’ll be here soon. He’ll fill me, stretching my walls with his massive cock and thrusting his powerful hips until I’m writhing beneath him and screaming his name.

When did I turn into a slave to his lust? I don’t beg. I’m not that kind of girl, but he broke my walls down, and I’ve learned to love it.

He’s bad for me. I know he is, but I still crave him. And now that I’ve given in, I’m all his. Until he’s done with me, anyway. I know it’s coming.

This arrangement isn’t going to last, but I push the thoughts away and force myself to live in the moment.

For now, I belong to the inked-up bad boy next door.

“
I
’ve never seen so
many hot guys in my life!” cries Katie Butler, my partner in crime and childhood friend. We’re standing in line outside of Club Dusk, the hottest nightclub in this town. As new residents to Grim Lake, a bustling town nestled in the lush Midwest, we’ve come to check out the nightlife scene on our last night of freedom. Not that the party scene is
my
scene.

Katie has been adamant all week that we go out and have a good time before we spend the next several years with our noses stuck in a book and stressing about exams. While I agree wholeheartedly with her, I’m just not sure if I want to spend the night with horny guys breathing down my neck.

I make a sour face as I survey the sea of young men standing in line in front of us. “Are you sure we’re looking at the same people?” I say loudly over the bass of the music coming from within the club.

Honestly, I don’t know what Katie’s smoking. I wouldn’t give a second glance to any of these dudes even if I was walking down the street, desperate to find a man. And the few that are good-looking, already have a chick on their arms.

Not to mention I’m not here to find a boyfriend,
I think to myself.
I’m just here to have a couple of drinks and unload some stress. That’s it.

Despite being the goal of maybe eighty percent of the women in attendance, I have no intention of getting sloppy-ass drunk and winding up in some strange asshole’s bed the next morning, not knowing how or why I wound up in it.

Besides, after the way my last relationship ended, a boyfriend is the last thing on my mind.

Just thinking about my ex, Zachery Haynes, makes my stomach tense with a mixture of anger and anxiety. We’d been high school sweethearts who thought we’d be spending the rest of our lives together. Our endgame goals were even aligned. College degrees. High-powered jobs. White picket fence. A full-sized family. The whole nine yards.

That dream shattered when I walked in on Zach getting a blowjob from my high school nemesis, Jenna Stout. Seeing her there on her knees, slurping my boyfriend’s dick felt like a spear piercing my heart.

Of course, being the egotistical, narcissistic asshole he was, Zachery tried to make it seem like HE was the victim. It was an accident, he claimed. He didn’t mean to do it. It was all Jenna’s fault for showing up on his doorstep looking hot as fuck in her cheerleader uniform.

She'd seduced him he said, she’d made his dick hard and made him take it out so she could slurp on it like a fucking cherry popsicle. The ridiculous explanation was more than I could take. I left him and Jenna right then and there to continue their oral session, and I never spoke to the bastard ever again.

I did suffer for it, though.

The whole trauma from Zach’s betrayal put me in a deep depression, causing my GPA to fall. And by mid-semester, I was close to failing several of my classes. Luckily, with the help of Katie and my father, I was able to pull myself out of my rut in time enough to get my grades back on track to allow me to qualify to go to one of the best universities in the nation.

It’s funny how things turn out.

There was one valuable lesson I learned from Zach’s betrayal, and that was you could never trust a man.

Fuck a boyfriend
, I think to myself.
I’ll only enter a relationship when I’m good and ready. And that won’t be for a very long time.

I don’t intend on dating until I’ve graduated and landed my dream job. Then, and only then, will I give the male species a second chance at regaining my trust. Besides, I certainly won’t find Mr. Right in a club full of horny guys just looking for the next girl to fuck.

“I must be blind then,” I say. “Or just plain stupid.”

Katie tears her eyes away from the object of her affection and scowls at me. I must say Miss Katie’s makeup is on point tonight, with false eyelashes that would make a drag queen jealous, rosy blush, glossy pink lipstick and dramatic eye shadow. Her hair isn’t too shabby, either, styled into a trendy shoulder-length side bob that shimmers under the street light. A tight red dress that hugs her pear-shaped frame completes her look. “You really need to lighten up, Maddy. We came here to have fun, remember?”

I hold Katie’s scowl for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh. “I know, I know, I’m just not looking forward to having a line of horny guys buying me drinks and reading me their lame pick-up lines in hopes that I’ll sleep with them.”

Katie looks at me like I’m crazy. “If you don’t want that, then why the hell did you agree to come in the first place?”

It’s a good question. If my goal is to relieve stress, there are a lot more relaxing things I could do rather than come to a rowdy nightclub… like enjoy a bubble bath with a chilled glass of wine, or cuddle up on the couch with a good romance book. I
love
wine now.

Last year, my twenty first, was all about hard liquor and beer. Simply because that’s was the go-to for everyone else. Katie got me hooked on wine. First a White Zin and then a smooth Cabernet. It’s easy to just have a glass and let the stress slip away. Especially when you’re in the habit of avoiding the things that upset you. That’s simply what I do, I steer clear of anything that could hurt me.

The truth is I’ve been avoiding the opposite sex since Zach’s betrayal. Maybe subconsciously I wanted to see what it feels like to be desired again, even if it's by a horny guy looking to land his next lay. Yeah, that had to be it. I wanted a boost of confidence.

At five foot four, with green eyes, long blonde hair and a voluptuous figure, I’ve gotten enough compliments to know that I'm not bad-looking, maybe even pretty. But Zach’s cheating had been a blow to my self-esteem. I mean, if I was so beautiful, why did he feel the need to cheat on me?

Stop it,
I tell myself, something I do every time I find myself falling into the trap of internalizing my ex’s actions.
Zach cheated because he was a narcissistic asshole that only cared about himself. It had nothing to do with my looks.

It's a mantra I repeat frequently to keep myself from getting depressed. Lately though, I've been having trouble believing it.

“Are you kidding me?” I demand. “You’re really going to act like you weren’t bugging me all damn week to come out and have some fun?” I look at her like she’s lost her mind. “I think your exact words were, ‘Your face is starting to look like cracked asphalt because of the perpetual scowl you’ve had on your mug for the past month.’”

“You still didn’t have to come,” says Katie defensively. “And your face
was
starting to look like cracked asphalt.”

I roll my eyes. “Get real. If I hadn't come I would’ve never heard the end of it.” I put my finger to my lips and make a thoughtful expression. “Hmm, what was one of the arguments you were using to blackmail me to be your partner in crime? Oh yeah, that’s right, 'I’m going to be so pissed off at you Maddy, if you don’t come get shitfaced with me before we move into our new condo together.'”

“I did not say that.”

I glower. “Yes, you did.”

Placing her hands on her hips, Katie scowls back at me and admits, “Okay, maybe I did. Now what?”

“Nothing. Just letting it be known that I had no choice in the matter if I didn’t want to deal with a pissed off diva for the next couple of weeks.”

“I am not a diva!” she wails.

“Tell that to Vanessa! She's the prissiest person I know, and even she knows you’re a diva!”

“Vanessa is a cat!” Katie protests.

“That’s my point exactly.”

“Ugh, whatever. I just don’t know why you’re giving me so much grief over this. What’s so bad about me wanting you to come out and interact with the opposite sex for just one night, huh?”

I fall silent for a moment as the line moves up. We’re only a couple of feet from being let inside the club, and I have to admit I’m feeling a little excited. “I don’t know,” I say finally. “I guess I’m still not over Zach.”

Katie shakes her head, her bob swishing to the side. “You’re crazy. Why wouldn't you be over that ego-inflated douchebag?”

“I don’t mean him per se, I mean what he did.”

Katie frowns. “Oh. I understand... but we talked about that, remember? We agreed that Zach was an asshole who never cared about you, you were better off without him, and that you wouldn’t let what he’d done bother you anymore.”

“I know, Katie, and for a while I didn’t let it get to me... but... I… lately I’ve been feeling like I’ll never be able to trust guys again,” I confess reluctantly.

“Who says you have to trust a guy to fuck him?” she replies with a shrug.

“Katie!” I object in horror.

Katie makes an innocent face. “Wha?”

“I’m not here for that!”

“Why not? Your muffin has cobwebs.”

I cross my arms over my chest and threaten, “I’m going to leave.”

Katie lets out a wild laugh at my exasperation. “I’m just playing! Sort of. You know, just because Zach cheated on you, doesn’t mean you can’t have a sexual relationship with someone.”

“It does in my book. Besides, I’m not one to sleep around.”

Katie snorts. “Why sell yourself short? There’s nothing wrong with having sex with someone, no strings attached. Then you don't have to deal with all the bullshit that comes with a relationship, like what happened between you and Zach.”

Katie has a point. Since Zach, I’d sworn off sex and probably would remain celibate for years to come. Why deny myself the simple pleasures in life because of the actions of one heartless bastard? What harm could come from fulfilling a primal need from time to time?

Because I want it to be special,
I tell myself.
If I sleep with a guy just to satisfy an itch, it won’t mean anything.

“If anything,” Katie continues while I’m lost in thought, “Zach’s betrayal should make you want to use guys and leave them.”

“No thanks,” I say. “I won’t stoop to his level.”

“That’s not stooping to his level; it’s called empowering yourself.”

“How is becoming the village slut empowering?”

Katie laughs. “Hey, guys do it all the time, and they're rewarded for it. We do it, and we’re sluts. How is that fair?”

“You know I know it’s not, but it just doesn’t interest me.”

“Won’t you even consider the possibility?”

“Nope. I’m only here because you made me come… and because I want free cosmopolitans.”

Katie giggles. “Don’t we all? But seriously, if a smoking hot guy comes up to you and wants to have a little fun, are you really going to turn him down?”

“Yep.”

“Liar.”

“Just watch me.”

I have every intention of keeping my word. I don’t care if some guy buys me a dozen free drinks or is a clone of Charlie Hunnam and Channing Tatum put together, I am not going home with anyone.

We get through the line and into the club and the whole time I’m thinking, a few drinks, a flirt here and there, and then I’m going home.

No screwing whatsoever.

And then I see
him
.