Cruel Boy Page 16

  A blush appears on my cheeks. I never fucking blush. “I saw you at the 7-Eleven. It wasn’t on purpose, believe me.”

  “Right,” he muses. “Yet you followed me here anyway. Sounds like you’re obsessed.”

  “I’m not!” I reply, frowning. “You’re trying to avoid the conversation again.”

  “You’re right because I don’t wanna talk about my dead fucking mom, okay?”

  I pause and hold my breath. Wow.

  “I … I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” I say.

  “No, you don’t know. And it was supposed to stay that way,” he says, rubbing his face.

  “Why?” I mutter.

  “Because you’re all up in my business. Everywhere I go, you are there. No matter what I do, you’re always there, invading my memories and my mind. Everything.”

  I swallow away the lump in my throat. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s my fault. I just gave you more ammo.”

  “Ammo?” I make a face.

  “Don’t pretend you didn’t think about it. It’s why you followed me here, right?” he says, tilting his head. “Just to spy on me to get dirt.”

  “No, I—”

  He laughs and grabs another can of beer and opens it. I quickly snatch it from his hands and chuck it away.

  “Hey! Again with the drink stealing,” he growls.

  “You need to quit. Right now,” I say, and I get up and pull at his arms. “C’mon. Get up.”

  “No, what are you doing?” He grunts, putting all his weight to remain seated, but I won’t give up.

  “Fucking get off your ass, Nate Wilson,” I say. “Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s not fucking worth it.”

  “What? Drinking until I’m smashed?” He snorts. “Not as if I haven’t done it before.”

  “Stop it,” I say, and I tug as hard as I can.

  “No,” he says, trying to reach for another can.

  I swat him away and take ahold of his hands, pulling him halfway off the ground. “Goddammit, Nate Wilson, just stop!”

  “Why?” he growls. “Give me one good reason.”

  “Your mom wouldn’t want this for you.”

  “Don’t talk about my mom,” he hisses.

  “Do you think she’d be happy to see you like this?” I spit. “You can do better than this.”

  “Don’t,” he hisses. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

  “Or what? You’re gonna hurt me?” I pull so hard he finally budges. “Stop disappointing her.”

  Something ignites within him as he gets up and immediately grabs my throat. I cough and grab his hand as it squeezes tightly around my neck. Fury burns in his eyes.

  “Nate,” I choke out, barely able to breathe. “Stop. Can’t … breathe.”

  The look in his eyes suddenly changes as if he’s regained his consciousness, and he instantly releases me from his grip. I cough hard and grab my throat to make sure it’s still intact.

  I was taunting him on purpose to get him to fight back against his need to self-destruct. But shit, I never expected him to do that.

  “Sorry,” he mutters, lowering his head.

  He can’t even look at me when he says it.

  Can’t admit his mistakes, the flaws within his soul.

  But I don’t want him to hide. I want him to show me. I want to see the naked truth as rough and as bad as it can get. I need to know, even if it hurts me in the process. I’ve made my peace with that. The moment I took those pictures that day at the beach, I already knew I was going down a rabbit hole that might be inescapable. But I went there anyway, willingly. And I’m not about to give up on finding the bottom now.

  He rubs his forehead again and glances at the beer cans littered across the ground near his mother’s grave.

  “Leave them,” I say. “Someone else will pick them up.”

  “I …” he murmurs.

  I place a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”

  He looks at me with disdain in his eyes. “You should be. I’m not good for you.”

  “You aren’t,” I say, smiling. “But I don’t care.”

  “Why? I don’t understand,” he says.

  But I don’t know the answer to that question either. All I know is that I’m looking at a boy who’s not ready for the world he created, a boy who can’t face his own sins. A boy whose youth was taken from him too soon, whether by force or by choice.

  A boy in need of a girl to help him out.

  “You’re not the only one with secrets,” I mutter. “I guess we’re all bad guys in our own story. And … I’m sorry I talked about your mom.”

  “I get it.” He nods a few times. “I’m sorry about the other day. In the locker room.” He clears his throat. “I didn’t mean to chase you off.”

  If it wasn’t for the rain cooling me off, I’d probably be as hot as a volcano right now, that’s how embarrassed I am.

  “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

  I turn around, but he grabs my hand and stops me from walking farther. “Wait.”

  Should I stay, or should I go?

  Right now, I have two choices, but I can’t decide. Either one is bad for me. My heart lingers to stay, but my brain knows he’s bad for me.

  He lets go of my hand slowly, but I remain where I was frozen to the ground. His body presses against my back, his hands wrapping around my body. My heart swells as his head leans down on my shoulder, and he presses a kiss to my cheek.

  “Thank you,” he says.

  It’s the best thank you I’ve ever heard.

  My eyes trail down to the hands firmly wrapped around my waist. Blood on his knuckles mixes with the droplets of rain, falling down to the ground. I can’t leave him like this.

  “We should get you fixed up,” I say, and I lean away. “I’ll drive.”

  He nods against my shoulder, and says, “My house.”

  His house.

  My heart begins to thrum.

  The last time I was there was to find my laptop.

  Alone.

  But I’m not alone anymore.

  He follows me to my car and slips into the passenger’s seat without saying a word. There’s an uncomfortable silence as I drive back to his house, and I clear my throat when we finally arrive.

  He steps out of the car, and so do I. It’s still pouring outside, so I put on my hoodie as he opens the gate with a key card in his pocket. I follow him up to the giant house, but my eyes can’t stop looking at his botched-up knuckles that drip blood. I hope they have some bandages and supplies in the house.

  Nate sticks his keys into the lock and opens the door. “Dad?”

  No one replies. We go inside. The house is dark; no lights are on. Nate walks into the kitchen and picks up a note lying on the counter. He sighs when he’s done reading and throws it in the trash.

  “He’s gone.”

  “What, forever?” My eyes widen.

  Nate snorts. “No, course not. He’s just … gone shopping or something.” He shrugs. “I don’t really care.”

  “You … and your dad don’t get along well?” I ask.

  “I got into an argument with him,” Nate says, tossing his keys up in the air and then catching them. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Yeah, of course,” I say, smiling. “So where do you keep the bandages?”

  “Uh … bathroom, I guess.”

  Sounds as if he doesn’t know. I tag along with him to the bathroom and look inside the cabinets. There’s a first-aid box in one of them, so I take it out and open it up. Just a small bandage is all I need. “Perfect.”

  He sits down on the toilet while I grab a bottle of disinfectant and pour some on a cotton ball. “This is gonna hurt.”

  He hisses a little when I dab it onto his bloody knuckles.

  “Sorry,” I say.

  “Don’t,” he mutters, gazing straight into my eyes. “Just don’t say that word.”

  I nod and remove the wrapper and place the bandage around his knu
ckles. It’s a painstaking process because I’m not at all good at it. My mom only showed me how to do it once, so I hope I’m doing it right. I fasten the bandage with a bit of tape, and say, “Done.”

  “Thanks.” A brief but gentle smile appears on his face.

  “You’re welcome.” I don’t think we’ve ever had a more civilized conversation than this one right here.

  But the silence that follows is awkward and overwhelming, and I don’t know what to do or say. After a while, he gets up and turns off the light in the bathroom, then walks off. Only after a few seconds do I follow him. He’s standing in the doorway to his room, glaring at something.

  When I pop up behind him, he moves inside and picks up something from his bed.

  A pair of panties.

  My panties.

  He clutches them tight, and I swallow hard. Everything from that day in the locker room comes flooding back. The search, the kissing match, him touching me everywhere … and all the ways he made me feel good.

  Fuck.

  I thought I’d put it behind me, but apparently, I’m incapable of doing so when it comes to him.

  “These were under my pillow …” he murmurs. “Dad …”

  “What?” I look over his shoulder.

  “It’s nothing.” He turns around to face me and tucks the panties in his pocket.

  “You took them from the locker room,” I mutter, staring at his pants, wondering why he won’t give them back.

  “Yeah,” he says, a smirk forming on his face.

  “As a trophy?” I raise a brow.

  His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Because I like the scent …”

  My whole face turns red as a beet again.

  “You’re soaking wet,” he murmurs, and even though I’m sure he’s talking about my clothes, my pussy can’t help but clench.

  His hand rises and almost touches a strand of my hair, but I lean away and swat him away before he has a chance. I don’t know why I’m so defensive. Why I’m so terrified of him touching me. Maybe it’s because I know I’d succumb to his seduction.

  But the grim look in his eyes after I decline makes me regret my action. “I … have something of yours,” he says.

  He fumbles in his pocket and takes out a familiar phone … mine.

  I narrow my eyes as he hands it to me. “So you did have it.”

  He doesn’t say a word. The guilty need none. My nostrils flare as I take it from him and tuck it back into my pocket. “Got what you wanted?”

  Again, not a word.

  Fuck him.

  I slap him right across the face.

  The moment passes in a second, but after, it feels like minutes.

  I can’t believe I actually did that.

  And fuck me … I’m still not over him.

  Because the first thing I do after his skin glows red is kiss him right on the lips.

  Chapter 25

  Nate

  When her lips land on mine, I lose all sense of reality. The way her mouth moves in sync with mine, her arms wrap around my neck, her hands lock behind my back, and her heart beats against mine.

  I’m hooked.

  Never before has my heart thumped in my throat the moment a girl’s lips landed on mine, but hers did … And fuck me, there’s nothing in the world that could make me happier than this.

  I’m lost in her mouth, and I can’t help but grab her face and push her against the door and take over. My mouth claims hers as though it always belonged to me. And fuck me if it doesn’t now.

  My hands are all over her—down her neck, her arms, her luscious body, and all the skin between. I want to touch it all. I want it to be mine. Would she mind? Would she be angry with me if I took it all?

  I pause and look her in the eyes. “Are you mad at me? Is this a hate kiss?” I murmur, grinning.

  She closes her eyes, and growls, “Shut up and kiss me.”

  She’s right. I shouldn’t think about it. I should just kiss her … Take what I want and make it mine. Her.

  I don’t want to be that boy—that bad boy everyone warns you about and that bad boy your mother wants you to stay away from.

  But I can’t help who I am. I can’t help what I’ve become, or what I’ve done.

  All I can do is give it my all … and fuck me if I don’t give her everything I’ve got.

  My fingers curl around her hoodie, and I pull it over her head and throw it on the floor. She glares at it for a second, and I wonder what she’s thinking. If she’s worried it might leave a stain on the floor … or if she’ll ever get it back. Or maybe she’s worried about how far this’ll go. But I know exactly what I want. And I think she knows that too.

  I tug at my shirt and rip it over my head, throwing it on top of the pile. Her eyes now gloss over my body, every inch of my muscles, and she visibly swallows. I love that hungry as hell look in her eyes. And my lips slam back onto hers.

  I fumble with the button on her pants and pull them down, cupping her ass with both hands. The feel makes me groan into her mouth, and her body pushes up against mine, desperate for more. Instinctively, I pick her up and put her down on my dresser, pulling off her pants and chucking them into the corner. Then I ravish her legs, kissing her everywhere, all the way down to her feet and back up to her panties again. She squashes her legs together, almost as if she’s afraid she’ll do something she’ll regret.

  But I don’t regret a single second. All my interactions with her have led to this moment. Despite the fact I was an unforgivable asshole to her, she still fell for me. And that fucking means the world to me.

  She doesn’t know how badly I tried to push her away, how I tried to make her hate me and fear me, just so I could get my way. Instead, she wormed her way into my heart until even I couldn’t stop myself from feeling like I needed her.

  And I fucking need her as much as I need to breathe.

  I suck her in as if she’s my oxygen, kissing her until she gasps for air. I can’t get enough, can’t stop my tongue from circling around hers, can’t stop my fingers from caressing her body. We gaze at each other for a moment because I don’t want her to run like last time.

  I don’t want her to think I’m only in it to hurt her. To add her to my collection like some goddamn prize. She’s so much more than that. I wish she could see.

  And even though I can barely contain myself, I must for her.

  But she immediately grabs my neck and pulls me toward her, and I kiss her fiercely, hungrily.

  If she wants me, she can have me all the way.

  My fingers fumble with her bra behind her back, and when the clips unfasten, I tear it away from her body and cup her tits in both hands. She’s gorgeous, perfect, and I can’t get enough.

  I lick and kiss them, sucking on her nipple and tugging at the other until she moans out loud. Fuck, I love that sound.

  “Finally, you’re mine,” I murmur against her skin as I come up to kiss her again.

  Adrenaline guides my hand as it dives between her legs, where her panties hide the best treasure yet. The fabric is completely wet, and her muscles tighten when I touch her there. I love her hesitance, the way she pauses and bites her lip as I slide my finger down her slit. And I love the way her eyes burst open, and her lips form an O when I reach her clit.

  “God, I fucking hate you,” she whispers.

  A wicked smirk forms on my lips. “Heard that one before. Don’t believe it anymore.”

  Her lips and willing body tell me the truth. She’s greedy for more, and I know just how to give it to her.

  There’s no way back. No way out. No way to escape this madness that is us.

  * * *

  Sam

  I wanted to hate him. Wanted so badly to scream at him.

  But all I could think of was kissing him … of falling so hard I could never get back up.

  He’s ruined me. Destroyed whatever was left of my pride, my dignity … my resolve.

  I melt in his arms, desire consuming my every w
aking thought. Hormones take control of my body and invade my mind. All I want is for him to take what he wants and leave me with nothing.

  My body zings wherever he touches me, and I can’t get enough of how good it feels. My mouth is addicted to his as he positions himself between my legs and clasps my thighs, fingers digging into my skin.

  I used to fantasize about this moment, about Nate Wilson bringing me into his house just to kiss me, touch me, and make me scream his name. It’s like a wet dream come true.

  Danger attracts me like nothing else ever does. Is it so wrong for me to want the bad boy? The one who pierces hearts and never lets them go?

  My momma always said to protect myself, but it’s already too late. My heart is already bleeding with desire, and all it wants is him. Nate Wilson with all his rough edges, all his dark tendencies, all his dirty secrets, all his heinous crimes. I want it all, even if it’ll kill me. And I almost want to ask him …

  Am I next?

  I suck on my lips as he sinks his teeth into my shoulder and makes me groan.

  Damn, the pain is addictive just like his mouth and literally everything about him. From those thick abs, to the dark wavy hair, to the sharp cheekbones and the filthy look in his eyes. I’m getting high on the pleasure, and I can’t get enough.

  “You’re such a dirty girl,” he whispers. “If I’d known you were like this, I would’ve done you before.”

  “Stop talking,” I reply between kisses. “And just do me.”

  A devilish smirk appears on his face. He takes a step back and unbuttons his pants. Just as before, his boxers are tented to the limit and almost make my eyes pop. Damn … he’s packing.

  He continues, and I swallow away the lump in my throat as he tugs down the elastic band over his bump. My mouth waters at the sight.

  Bad girl, Sam! Bad girl. Don’t be so fucking horny.

  But I am. No porn could ever prepare me for this.

  It’s about to go down, but I’m not afraid anymore. And the closer he gets, the more excited I get.

  He leans in for a short kiss while his fingers curl around my panties and slide them off with ease. Then he comes back up, nudging my legs aside. He wraps one arm around my back and cups my face with the other, claiming my mouth, taking away any lingering doubts.