So. Long.: Bad Boy Next Door (48 page)

“Fuck no, Sweets. That one? It’s now proudly lodged at the
top of my spank bank. It’s probably going to forever be my go-to for jacking
off. If it was a
real
picture, within a year it’d be dog-eared, stained,
and frayed at the edges.”

That smile. I want to scratch it off his freaking face.
Instead, I groan.

“How did you get so uptight? What happened to you?”

“Nothing.
Nothing
happened. Please—I told you, I
won’t sleep with you; you’re disgusting. Now, let me be, Danny. Stay. Away.”

Mo’s shoulders slump and she walks away.

Seems like she’s always walking away.

And I always let her.

Because I have to—if I don’t, Dad yanks everything.

If it was only me, fine. Money doesn’t mean shit to me. I’ll
make my own fucking money. But I can’t do that to Rachel. Or Mo. I can’t
deprive them of something because I want to sink my dick so deep into Mo she’ll
never get me out of her head. But—it’s just sex. I can fuck any girl.

Hell, haven’t I been screwing every girl who’ll spread her
legs for me since Dad first forbade me to see Mo? Fuck yeah I have. Can’t have
Mo? Fine, I’ll have
all
the other girls and make sure as shit the world
knows that I do.

So what if I have a reputation? Good. So what if it pisses
dear old Dad off? Even better.

So what if Mo thinks I’m disgusting? My chest hardens and
rage floods through me like a tidal wave. I grab her lounge chair and throw it
into the pool. The splash is less than impressive.

Fuck.

I stalk to the house. The glass doors mock me with my
reflection. I’m strong, right? I’m bad ass, right?

Then why can’t I control my own destiny?

Why can’t I have what I want?
Who
I want?
When
I want?

I want Mo. And I want her now.

But I can’t have her, so I want to fucking break something.
A growl rises from deep in my gut, turning into a roar. All that ferocity
gathers in my fist. With one hard swing it goes through the plate glass.

Shattered glass peppers the concrete. Damn, that feels good.

Until it doesn’t.

Wetness drips onto my foot.

Blood.

Aw, fuck me.

The sting sets in, followed by a throb. Shit. That’s a lot
of red. I step into the house. Bare feet on glass, not such a great thing.

In the kitchen, I grab a towel and wrap my sliced wrist. It
takes only seconds for it to soak through with blood.

I pull my phone from my pocket. Damn. Why the fuck do we
have to live in the middle of fucking nowhere?

I have no choice. I’ll bleed out before a fucking ambulance
can get here. I dial the last person who probably wants to take my sorry ass to
the hospital.

It goes to voicemail. Try again. Voicemail. She’s just not
fucking answering my calls.

Forget it. I trot to the guest house. The wound throbs like
a motherfucker. I hold my arm over my left pec, blood trickles from the
dripping towel, down my chest, soaking into the waistband of my shorts.

I bang on the door.

Before it’s even open, she says, “I thought I asked you to
leave me alone.”

“I need you.”

“Holy crap, Danny.”

She runs inside. A couple of seconds tick by and she’s back,
turning me toward her car and giving me a push.

She buckles me in and hits the gas. Her eyes are on the
road, both hands white knuckling the wheel. “What the hell did you do?”

“The back door looked at me wrong and I had to take it out.”

“Does it hurt?”

Stings like a bitch. “Nah, it looks worse than it is.”

“You broke the door?”

“Yeah. You know, it’s an old house, apparently built before
safety glass.”

“Why would you break the glass?”

“Told you, it—”

“Seriously, Danny. Why?”

“I’m pissed. Okay? Don’t you ever get so fucking mad you
want to destroy shit?”

Mo shakes her head, not the kind of head shake that says
no
,
but the kind that says
you’re a fucking idiot.
Only Mo wouldn’t say
fucking, she’d say freaking or silly or some other ridiculous word. Though she
did just—

I shift in my seat. “Did you say
hell
?”

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

My wrist stings like fire, but I laugh anyway. “What do you
know? I made you cuss.”

“Hell isn’t a curse word. Not really.”

I nod. “Sure, okay. Whatever you say.”

* * *

Mo hasn’t said three words since I called her on cursing.
I’d swear she’s embarrassed. Over the word
hell
. Ten minutes and we’ll
be home.

“So, doc says I need to not use the hand for a couple of
days. Think you can come up and help me out tomorrow evening and Saturday?
Laney will be at the house in the morning, but when she leaves…”

She sighs. “Fine. Text me tomorrow when Laney heads out,
I’ll come up. But don’t expect me to chat or keep you company. I’ll help you if
you need something, but that’s it. Got it?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m disgusting. You wouldn’t want to talk
to me or anything; one of my cooties may jump over on you and dirty you up.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Danny. I just—it’s best if we stay
away from each other as much as possible.”

I slide my good hand over her leg.

She jerks her knees together. “Stop. I told you—”

My fingers trail to the top of her thigh. “I know what you
said. But I’m betting you don’t mean it. I’m thinking, given the chance…”

She pushes my hand off. “Don’t. Don’t bet on anything.
You’ll lose, Danny Jennings. You aren’t the guy I need. I’m not going down this
road.”

Not the guy she needs.

What about the guy she
wants
?

* * *

I have to call my sister. There’s no way around it. I can’t
go on like this. Something has to give. Lord, please, let Rachel not be off on
the savannah, somewhere there’s no reception. I swipe the screen on my phone.

It rings three times, just as I pull the phone away from my
ear, her voice comes through. “Danny!”

“Hey, Rach. How’re you doing over there in the wilds of
Africa?”

“It’s hot. And there are a ton of bugs. And there was a lion
in camp yesterday, but luckily no one got hurt. And, oh my gosh, Danny, you’d
love it here.”

“Yeah? Think so? Miss us yet?”

She gets quiet, but only for a second. “Of course, I miss
you. Have you seen Mo? I haven’t talked to her.”

“Yeah, she’s kind of why I’m calling.”

“Really? What is it?”

I take a deep breath and let it out nice and slow. “I want
your blessing, sis. There’s something I have to do—it’s bad.”

FIVE

The vibration beats into my brain. What? Ugh. Too early for
text messages.

I grab my phone off the night table. Pushing my hair out of
my face, I read the screen.

-COME SAVE ME. Laney’s making me eat oatmeal. Seems to
think my wrist being hurt means my stomach is sick.-

I roll back over. No class on Fridays, I get to sleep-in.
I’m amazed Danny’s even awake at eight in the morning.

* * *

An hour later my phone vibrates again.

-BORED. Can’t play video games. Nothing on TV. COME SEE
ME.-

I prop up on one elbow and answer the text.

-Go back to bed. Too early. Trying to sleep.-

I flip to my stomach and slide the phone under the pillow
next to me. Maybe that’ll muffle the vibration.

* * *

Danny holds his arms out. I have to jump, but I don’t
know if I can. Will he catch me? Will he drop me? Will he step away and let my
skull burst and splatter on the pavement?

He smiles and nods, assuring me I’ll be fine if I trust
him.

Trust Danny? Can I?

I want to so bad. His body calls out to mine. His heart
beats, so strong and steady, I can hear it from here. So trustworthy.

I step off the rooftop.

As I fall the world vibrates around me.

Will he catch me?

* * *

I jerk awake. My phone sends vibrations through the entire
bed. Crap.

Pulling it from under the pillow, I swipe the screen.
Twenty-two whole minutes. The boy is a five year old. He has no patience.

-Please. Come. Now.-

Another text comes in while I’m reading the first.

-I want you to come.-

I’d like to type
I want to
come
too, Danny. I want
to come too.

Ugh. He makes me think the worst things. Damn it, Danny.

I tap out the
right
words, trying to be angry that he
won’t let me sleep and that he makes me want things I shouldn’t, but I’m
smiling.

-I want a lot of things I don’t get. Like sleep. /c:-

I drag out of bed and brush my teeth. I’m not even going to
comb my hair. The last thing I want is for Danny to get any ideas that I want
to look nice for him. So, I leave my giant sleep shirt on and pull on some
shorts. He’ll have to deal with me looking like I just woke up. All wild haired
and unkempt.

That should keep him from getting turned on—something he seems
to constantly have a problem with. I don’t know if I can resist him much
longer. So, I’ll be the resistible one. After all, it’s not like I can ignore
him when he’s injured. I promised Rach I’d be here for him. If I look like crap
while I’m doing it, good.

* * *

I let myself in through the cardboard and duct taped back
door. Wet patches in the carpet form a trail all the way to the kitchen tile.
Laney must’ve cleaned up his blood. I follow the spots around the corner.

Laney’s washing dishes. She looks up, and her round face
lights. “Did you come to entertain the young master?”

I giggle. She calls him that because it aggravates him. It
always has. Even since before I came to live here, I remember her saying that
to ten-year-old Danny and him turning red-faced over it. I return her smile.

She nods toward the stairs. “He’s in the theatre. I’ll bring
up some snacks and lemonade in a few minutes.”

“Great. Thanks.”

As my foot hits the bottom step, she calls, “So glad you’re
here. He’s driving me bats.”

The door’s open just a crack, so I tap as I push. A movie
plays and the lights are low.

Danny looks up from his recliner. “Oh thank God. I thought
you’d never show up.”

I prop my hands on my hips. “Where are all your buddies? Or
all your girls?”

He lifts his good hand in an exaggerated shrug. “Don’t know.
They’ve all abandoned me in my time of need. You’re the only one I can count
on, Mo.”

With a roll of my eyes, I drop onto the double recliner next
to Danny’s single. “Don’t be too sure of yourself. I’m here until you tick me
off. Then I’m out. So behave yourself.”

“Who? Me? I always behave. I have no idea what you’re
talking about.”

I toss him a skeptical look. “We’ll see.”

True to her word, a couple of minutes after I settle in,
Laney bumps the door with her hip and carries in a tray laden with brownies and
lemonade.

She picks up Danny’s arm and inspects the bandage. “Okay.
Since Mo’s here, I’m going to head on out. My sister’s coming into town this
afternoon and I need to pick up a few things at the market and get home before
she arrives.”

My stomach flips. “You’re leaving? But I thought you’d be
here for a while.”

Laney’s smile is radiant. “Oh, I’m certain you can handle
the young master. His wound seems to be doing just fine. Looks like he’s able
to do pretty much anything he wants as pain allows.”

Danny stands and gives Laney a one armed hug. “Okay. Well,
you should get going then. Don’t want you to be late for your sister—Della,
isn’t it? Tell her we say hi.”

Laney bustles out and Danny plops down on the empty half of
my recliner.

I scoot against the arm as he curls a finger in my tangled
hair. “You’re beautiful. You know that?”

I squash the tickle in my gut. “How many pain killers did
you take?”

He cocks his head and frowns. “None. I’m good. Six stitches
is nothing. I’ve had worse. And I didn’t even cut any major nerves or arteries.
Barely a flesh wound. Why? You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

“Come on, Danny. Let’s not do this, please. I’m here to keep
you company. Don’t ruin it already.”

He pulls away and lays his hand across the backrest. “Okay.
You’re right. I’m sorry. Watch a movie with me? Or we can play a game. You used
to love cards; want to play some Rummy or something? I’d suggest strip poker,
but I won’t. Unless you’re game. Because it is kind of warm in here, I could
shed some clothes and be more comfortable.”

I hide my smile behind my hand as I shake my head. “You’re a
piece of work.”

In one deft move, with his good hand he yanks his shirt
open, sending buttons flying in all directions. His chest and abs flex, every
muscle defined as the low light trips across the high points. He looks down.
“Yeah, I guess I am a piece of work. Not bad, eh?”

I lean over and grab the remote from the arm of his
abandoned chair, shoving it into the middle of his gorgeous belly. “Here, turn
on something from the beginning so we can both
watch the movie
.”

He winks. “So, you think you’d help me with my fly if I have
to take a leak? I might even let you hold it if you ask nicely.”

I cross my arms and stare at the screen.

He’s such a mess.

* * *

By early evening, my head rests on Danny’s chest, and just
like in my dream his heart beats strong and steady as we eat pitted cherries
from the same bowl.

I have no willpower. I admit it. Good thing he doesn’t know
or I’ll be screwed. Both figuratively and literally.

Having sex with Danny isn’t an option. I can’t be another
condom wrapper at his feet.

I won’t.

Mo has no idea how fucking hard it is to keep my hands to
myself. Her hair flows over my chest, tickling my belly when I breathe. I’ve
been half-cocked since she showed up this morning, her hair tousled like she’d
been made love to all night.

God, what I’d give to see how she’d look after I’ve had my
way with her into the wee hours of the morning. Probably just like she looks now,
only well- fucked, with her lips swollen from my kisses and from my cock
pumping into her mouth over and over. Her pussy would be puffed-up too, soft
and pink, from me sucking it, licking it, and finally pounding it. I bet she
tastes like heaven.

Ah hell, now my dick is in full-on erection mode. I shift,
trying to make sure she doesn’t see. She might up and leave if she does. Damn.
I need a pillow or a blanket. Or to get laid.

No shit. That’s it.

I need to get laid so bad. I haven’t had a piece of ass since
I kissed Mo. That was, what, two weeks ago? Jeez. I never go that long between
fucks. It’s not natural. I wasn’t meant to be celibate.

I move the cherry bowl to cover my woody. Maybe she won’t
notice it’s balanced precariously on something hard and long. A chuckle escapes
my chest.

Her big, blue eyes pull away from the screen. “What’s
funny?”

I run my hand through the softest hair on the planet.
“Nothing, Sweets. Just had a funny thought; that’s all.”

When she digs into the bowl, scraping the bottom, she may as
well be running her fingers over my cock. I shift again. The bowl falls to the
side, spilling juice and a few cherries onto my lap.

She jumps up, grabbing the dish. “Oh no. Sorry.”

I stand and brush my pant leg off. My boner pushes against
my zipper—big as fucking daylight. “No problem. I’ve been known to make a mess
every now and then. There’s worse things than cherry juice on a guy’s crotch.”

She looks up, her eyes leveling on the stain covering my
hardness. I suck in a quick breath. Please, don’t leave. Please. Just don’t
leave.

I hold my breath. She leans her head back, her gaze slowly
rising, eyes moving as she checks out my chest. Finally, she meets my gaze. She
bites her bottom lip and swallows so hard I hear her.

She sets the bowl on the cushion and stands, backing to the
door. “I’m just going to head—”

I step toward her, pleading. “No. It’s okay. It’s just a
physical reaction. You’re hot as fuck and I want you. But just because I’m
aroused doesn’t mean you have to leave, Mo. Please. Don’t go. Stay. It doesn’t
mean anything. It’s not a big deal.”

She glances to the bulge behind my fly. “Looks pretty big to
me.”

Blocking her path, I step in front of the door. When I flip
the switch, light floods the room. Her blush covers her from her chest to her
hairline, so bright she could be sunburned.

I hold up my good hand, trying to calm her. “I’m sorry. I
am. I was ignoring it. You wouldn’t have even known if the bowl hadn’t
spilled.”

“Don’t you think you’d be more—I don’t know—
comfortable
if I’m not here?”

“It won’t matter. Look. I know you don’t want me that way. I
get it; I’m disgusting. But I want to be your friend.” And so much more.

She wilts. “You’re not disgusting. I shouldn’t have said
that. I’m sorry. But, Danny,
friends
? Really?”

“I’d rather be friends with bennies, but I’ll take what I
can get.” I shrug.

“I don’t know. It’s weird. Don’t you think?”

“Why? There are shit-tons of people who are just friends
even if one or both are attracted to the other. Right? It happens.”

“Maybe, but do the guys run around like
that
all the
time? How could they stand it, doesn’t it—like, isn’t there something about
blue—oh, hell…” She looks away, her cheeks brighter than before.

I touch her arm. “Something about
what
?”