Flirt: Bad Boy Romance (8 page)

Why was I stammering? I never stammered!

His eyes darkened, blue turning almost black, and he was grinning like he was pleased to see me so off kilter, so angry. I backed up, but a few steps from him closed the gap.

“You’re so pretty when you’re lying,” he said smoothly, his grin stretching even wider.

I blew air out of my nostrils. How dare he mock me! I backed up a little more, until my rear bumped against the wall. I so should’ve gone to bed.

“And I love the way you look when you’re mad,” he continued, his voice.

I glanced around. The hallway was empty, but Dad wouldn’t stay up for much longer. If he saw us standing so close together, with Wes leaning toward me—or if anyone saw us for that matter, we’d be…what? What would happen? I didn’t want to think about it. My stomach was all twisted with butterflies, and I couldn’t think properly.

“I—” I started to say.

“I’m not finished.” He retreated a step, and I moved away from the wall. Bad idea, because then Wes walked around me, looking me up and down. Although I was glad we were alone, I found myself wishing P and P would make an appearance so Wes would be forced to stop.

Wes. When had I stopped thinking of him as Wesley? Wes felt so much more personal. Which was the last thing I needed. I needed boundaries between us. He shouldn’t be an issue. I knew what it was like to have half-brothers. P and P had been in my life since they were born.

And I thought that was some of the problem. Wes had just come into my life now, and he was my age, and if we weren’t related, if we weren’t living together, I would not have to feel this way about being attracted to him. And unlike with P and P, we didn’t share a blood relative. We were only step-siblings.

A small distinction, and one I shouldn’t desperately cling to.

“I’m just gonna…” I jerked my thumb toward my bedroom door.

“I know what you did in bed last night.” The combination of his words and his husky tone of voice left me wanting to melt into a puddle.

I tried to not react. I tried to keep a straight face. I tried to avoid looking at him.

But I winced. I bit my lower lip. And I looked at him.

His grin was even wider now somehow. “I would very much like to see your true self come out, unconstrained by your family’s chains.”

What was he offering? And did I want it?

“My family doesn’t have chains,” I whispered. “Look at my dad. Look at his wives.”

“Look at your dad. Look at his rules. Look at how you live your life. On your terms? Or his?”

I couldn’t believe it, but I was actually considering it. To see what he meant, what he could offer. Because he did have a point. I almost always played by the rules.

And I never wanted so badly to break them.

But I couldn’t.

“I need to play it safe,” I said, grateful I wasn’t stammering anymore. “At least until I leave. Stirring things up now will only cause trouble.”

Stirring up trouble was the last thing I wanted.

But Wes just might be the thing I wanted most.

The look he gave me stole my breath away—it was a promise and a threat, all mixed with desire, forbidden and wild. “You have more freedom than you think you do, freedom to push the envelope.” He pushed my hair away from my face and smiled down at me. “Come to me when you decide you want to.” And he turned and walked away to his room, closing the door behind him.

“Come to me,” he had said, “when you decide you want to.”

When. Not if.

Arrogant, cocky son of a gun.

Cocky.

He was probably right with that when.

Wes

In my room, I paced back and forth, pulling on my hair, ready to go out of my mind. April had so much fire in her, so much courage and determination, but she was burying it, ignoring it, trying to ignore it. It pissed me off to see her suffocated by her strict family. She could do whatever she wanted.

Whoever she wanted.

Worse, I had never wanted someone so much in my life. Whenever she walked into the same room as me, my cock would always stir. Made for some awkwardness at school, but here, at the house, it was a thousand times worse.

And I knew she wanted me too. When I first heard her heavy breathing last night, I wasn’t sure what was going on, if she was hurt or needed help, but then she gave a loud cry, and I knew then exactly what she’d been doing. I knew—all right, I suspected—she had been thinking about me.

But seeing her talk to that guy after school made me wonder if she’d been thinking about him instead of me. She had been looking at him like she sometimes did with me, and I actually felt jealous. I knew all about jealousy—had felt it plenty of the years with kids and their perfect families and homes. But with a girl? Never. Sure, a few had resisted my charms, but I had decent experience with several girls over the years.

And none of them, even the girls I hadn’t kissed, had driven me as crazy as April was. There was something about her. Maybe I wanted to be a hero finally instead of the bad guy, but I wanted to free her, for her to see her true potential.

So when I saw her with that guy and looking at him that way, I had to interrupt them, and then I had to bring up her masturbation just a few minutes ago. I had to know who she’d been daydreaming about.

The look on her face said it all—that, yes, she had been touching herself—like I had thought—and, yes, I had been the one she’d been daydreaming about—like I had hoped.

April. Such a good girl. With such a bright future ahead of her. I needed to stop. I had to stop. As much as I wanted her, I didn’t want to ruin her life. Because that was what I always did. I ruined everything. Even if I had made a few friends here and there at some of the many schools I’d gone to, I never had those friends for long, just like I never stayed at a foster home for long. I just wasn’t meant to have good things. I could never have someone like April and not destroy her.

That’s why I hung out with my new friends after school, to put some distance between us. To forget about wanting to rip her skirt off and put my hand up her shirt, to kiss every inch of her body, to bury my face between her boobs, to have us orgasm at the same time.

I had to stop thinking about her.

This school actually wasn’t that bad. The teachers weren’t on my back yet, being lenient on me because I was entering the school year late. Most of the kids were cool. My friends were seniors who already had senioritis—they just wanted the school year to be over so they could get to their last summer of parties and fun.

I was all about parties and fun.

And they helped to keep me from thinking about April. A distraction. But here, in my room, knowing she was right next door, I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop thinking about her, daydreaming about her, imagining her bent over like she had been at the water fountain.

I sat on my bed. Nothing could prevent me from thinking about her hips flush against mine. I’d been with other girls before, but something about April—maybe her innocence—drew me to her.

Her hair had felt so soft. How would it feel in my hands while I controlled her head bobbing up and down on my cock? She’d be so embarrassed to be doing it while I was watching her, but I would watch. I’d enjoy watching her as much as I’d enjoy her sucking me. She didn’t have experience, that much was clear, and I could teach her so many things.

My cock was so hard, and I gave up. My fingers yanked down my zipper and unbuttoned my jeans. My hand curled around my twitching cock, and I pumped hard and fast. I had a feeling she never touched a cock before, probably hadn’t seen one either. I’d love to see how wide her eyes would get if she saw my cock, how big and long and thick it was, all just for her. Would she hesitate or reach out and grab it right away? I wanted to be the first guy whose cock she saw, touched, blew, rode. Oh, damn, I could just picture her on top of me, riding me, her eyes closed, head back, hair down, boobs bouncing.

It was too much, my hand and the fantasies. I came and came hard, making a mess all over me. I lay back, trying to recover my breath. I’d clean up in a minute. Right now, I just want to bask in the pleasure.

But my relief didn’t last long. I was only more unsatisfied at the core. My hand wasn’t enough. I wanted pussy. I wanted April’s pussy. I wanted to ram my cock into her, to touch her like no one else had. I wanted to make her mine, even if it was only for one night, even if it was so wrong. She was my step-sister after all.

My door shifted. Someone was standing outside it. I yanked my shirt down to hide that my jeans were undone, making even more of a mess, and walked over to my door with the hope that April would be there. I’d drag her inside and make her clean me up, and then my fingers would do the job her fingers had last night. I’d not only make her cry, she’d scream out my name.

But when I open the door, the hallway is empty. The light beneath her door was gone. I pressed my ear to her door and only heard the rhythmic breathing of someone sleeping.

Disappointed, I went to the bathroom, cleaned up, and got back into my bed. Damn, I wanted her. I wanted her even more now than I had before I jerked off. I tried to tell myself it was a good thing she hadn’t been on the other side of my door, but my cock thought otherwise.

It took me a long time to fall asleep, and when I finally did, I dreamed torturous sex dreams with April. We’d start to get it on, but her dad would knock on the door, or that guy from school would call. P and P would crash into the room. Someone was always interrupting us. Finally, I got up, locked the door, and turned off our phones, determined to plunge myself into her.

Only to wake up.

Torture was right.

Damn it.

A week passed and then another. At both school and home, April was doing everything in her power to avoid me. She wouldn’t talk to me. Wouldn’t even look at me. It was pissing me off. I hadn’t felt this angry in a long time. It more than just sucked. What had I done wrong? She’d enjoyed when I teased her. I hadn’t forced myself too hard with my coming onto her, had I? Maybe I frightened her. Definitely what I’d intended.

As much as I tried to tell myself it was for the best, her distancing herself from me bothered me. A lot. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and seeing her at school, in our classes, was torture. She had the whole good girl vibe going on, but the fire and spark I’d seen at times told me she could be fierce and independent and strong, if she would just get out from under her family’s thumb. And that fire and spark also suggested she would be a tiger in bed, if she could just overcome her reservations. Knowing she masturbated—while thinking about me—told me it wouldn’t be too hard to get her to overcome those reservations.

But it didn’t matter. She was staying away from me, and I hadn’t attempted to force a meeting between us. Although time wasn’t on our side, I would respect her and give her space. Instead, I occupied my time with my new friends.

I was sitting with them at lunch today. April, like always, was with her girlfriends, but they weren’t looking my way as quite as much as they had my first week here. April looked over even less. For wanting to give her space, I still paid her too much attention.

Lizzy Stevenson grabbed my arm, leaning her head on my shoulder. “So, Wesley, what do you think?”

To hide my ignorance and avoid being caught not paying attention, I smiled at her. “Whatever you think.”

She giggled and inched closer to me. Any closer and she’d be sitting on my lap. “I knew you agree. That movie is just terrible.”

Movie? I probably hadn’t seen it. Definitely hadn’t if it was still in theaters. I hardly ever wasted money on expensive movie tickets. Too many other things I’d rather buy, not that I had money to buy a lot of things. Still didn’t have a job yet. Maybe Walter forgot about it. Didn’t know. Didn’t care.

She nuzzled her cheek against my shoulder and ran her manicured fingers through my hair. Lizzy was definitely the touchy-feely type. Always all over me. She was incredibly hot with dark eyes, black hair, a tiny figure, and large boobs, but I just wasn’t interested in her. Would make my life so much easier if I was, but I didn’t want her.

My gaze shifted to the left, to April.

“So, what are you doing on Friday night?” Lizzy asked me.

“Not sure yet. I like to keep my options opened.”

“Well, have I got an option for you.” She giggled again and batted her eyelashes. Some girls looked ridiculous when they did that, but Lizzy could pull it off. Brian, one of my other friends here, told me she could have any guy at school and had had most of the football and baseball team already. Obviously, she’d turned her sights on me. I should feel flattered. Brian seemed like he wanted a turn with her. She was easy to talk to and nice to look at, but we never talked about anything important, and there was nothing deep or meaningful here.

Whereas with April, talking to her about her family and breaking free was so important. If I were honest, none of my previous relationships had been that deep or special. Even the first girl I fucked hadn’t been that serious. We never talked again afterward. I wasn’t built for roses and the long term. I wasn’t the kind to settle down.

Maybe if I found the right girl. Maybe then.

Maybe.

Lizzy was waiting for a response. What had we been talking about? Something about Friday night.

“I’ll have to consider it,” I said. I ate the last bite of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. For the first day of school, Jacqueline had volunteered to pack my lunch, and it had been all gourmet and elaborate, but I didn’t want all of it or her attention, so I made my own ever since. Simple sandwich, a few snacks, and a drink and that was it. I didn’t need a lot to make me happy. Not that I felt happy often.

“I’m having a house party,” Lizzy said. “Everyone who’s anyone will be there. Can I expect to see you there?” She was back to batting her eyelashes again.

I glanced back over at April. She was talking to that guy again. I had done a little snooping and learned his name. Adam. Didn’t know him that well, but I hated him. It irked me that I had a rival for April’s attention, although that didn’t surprise me. She was a catch after all. Maybe he was better for her than I was. Most likely, if I was honest with myself. This jealousy, I should forget about it. Let it go. Let her go.

“Well?” Lizzy asked, brushing her boob against my arm.

Screw you, Adam. And screw you, April.

“Yeah,” I said, “I’ll be there.”

***

That night, after dinner, Jacqueline pulled me aside into the living room. For the most part, I had been trying to avoid her as much as April was avoiding me. And Walter? I not only avoided him; I also ignored him. He might think he had a reason to tell me what to do, but I didn’t have to listen. Still didn’t have a job yet, and I wasn’t looking for one either. Ever since he wouldn’t let me borrow his car keys to go job hunting, I basically gave up on finding one. Why should I bother? Besides, I didn’t know if I wanted a job. Once I graduated, I’d have to find one anyhow, and then I’d be working for the rest of my life. While my new friends were looking forward to their last summer of freedom, I didn’t have that luxury. Now was my free time.

“Did you buy a car?” Jacqueline asked in a whisper, glancing around even though the room was empty. She looked panicky. “Did you ever make it to the car dealer?”

“I haven’t yet,” I lied. “I’ve been getting rides from April or my friends.”

Her eyes widened, and her look of panic grew. “Please do it soon. I want to help you.”

She sounded worried, anxious. I felt a twinge of guilt for lying to her, but I pushed it away, ignored it. For years, she ignored me, probably didn’t even feel guilty herself for abandoning me. Now she was trying to make up for it, but it’d take more than just a bike to get me to forgive all the shit I’d had to put up with because of her.

“Yeah, soon.” I shrugged.

“Good.” She reached toward me, but I ducked out of the room. No way was I going to hug her. Didn’t even want her to give me a hug that I wouldn’t return.

Although it was getting late, I didn’t go up to my room. Sure, I still had homework to do, but I didn’t feel like doing it yet. Instead, I headed for the front door, wanting to go for a ride, but when I passed the parlor, Walter cleared his throat.

“Wesley.” His tone was sharp. He was a man that expected obedience. “A moment please.”

I hesitated. Guessed I couldn’t ignore him forever. Oh well. It’d been nice while it’d lasted.

With a sigh, I entered the parlor but stayed near the doorway so I could make a quick escape if I needed to. I wasn’t in the mood to put up with any of his bullshit rules. Or a lecture. Didn’t want to have to listen to one. I didn’t give a crap what he thought of me. I didn’t feel the need to change, so I sure as hell wasn’t about to change for him.

He wore a bemused smile that had my stomach churning. “I found you a job.”

Oh? So he deemed me responsible enough for one after all. Or maybe he was hoping to make me more responsible through it. Probably was a crappy job anyhow. That would explain his stupid smirk.

“Doing what?” I asked. I braced myself for a job from Hell.

“Painting houses.” His smirk grew. “You’ll start this weekend.”

Yeah, crappy all right, but it could’ve been worse.

“If you don’t accept your responsibility and start acting like a respectable member of the family, there will be consequences to assure you are a well-disciplined young man.” Walter’s warning echoed throughout the room. His glare would’ve made most boys shape up immediately.

I wasn’t a boy though. I was eighteen, and I’d dealt with his type for years now. I wasn’t about to be bullied or forced into a model of behavior that wasn’t me. Life was too short to wear masks. I’d tried that for a little bit, when I’d still been desperate to be adopted. It hadn’t worked. I’d much rather be myself and take my licks when they were earned. Life was cruel, and I knew it, but I’d have my fun while I could to make it better.

“You will work hard. You will learn responsibility. Your upbringing has been rather poor, but that does not mean you cannot be better.”

I took a deep breath and blinked to avoid rolling my eyes. Walter and his speeches. Man, I swore the guy loved to hear himself speak. Like he knew what I’d been through. Like he thought I could be better. The guy was so religious. Maybe he thought that he was doing a service to his God by trying to help little ole me.

He was obviously waiting for a response, so I nodded. A terrible feeling hit me. This was how April had been treated her whole life. Given strict rules. Given no flexibility. Being told what to do, and being punished if she didn’t listen. Forced to be an adult early. She couldn’t be her own person here. Hell, I couldn’t be my own person here. I wanted to lash out, to do things my way, to be my own person, and I’d only being in this suffocating household for a few weeks. April just accepted this. She’d become complacent. What a shitty life.

No wonder she was avoiding me. My small rebellions here and there might be enough for her to realize just how confining her life was. Another thought slammed me like a punch to the gut. I hadn’t seen any signs of this, but what if Walter grew so annoyed, frustrated, and angry that I wasn’t bending to his will that he started to take it out on April? Or on P and P? Yeah, the boys were little terrors, but they were fun, and they kind of reminded me of myself when I’d been their ages. They definitely were punished a lot more than April were. Maybe boys were more likely to rebel than girls were. Or maybe they were only a few strict punishments away from being as meek and docile as Walter wanted. The thought made me want to puke.

I had nothing to say to the man, and since he hadn’t started to talk more, I walked out of the parlor and spied Roslyn in the living room. She caught my eye and waved me over. I’d never get out for my ride at this point.

Although I thought about pretending I hadn’t seen her, I joined her on the couch. She had never talked down to me. Never looked down on me. Honestly, I kind of liked her more than my own mother.

Roslyn was holding the baby, Penelope. Guessed Yvonne was busy.

Neither of us said anything. She was smiling at the drooling baby, and I might have thrown the baby a smile or two myself. After Walter walked by the living room and headed upstairs, Roslyn turned to smile at me. There was pity in her eyes. Wonderful. She overheard my conversation with Walter. More like Walter lecturing me. I hadn’t contributed much to the discussion. What did she want? Why was she being so friendly? I couldn’t trust her. I couldn’t trust anyone. No one looked out for me, so I had to look out for myself.

“How do you like it here, Wesley?” she asked, bouncing the baby on her knee. The baby loved it, giggling like it was great fun.

“Could be worse,” I muttered. It was kind of hard being sullen next to a happy baby.

“It’s not all bad, is it?” She glanced at me before smiling at Penelope again. “Have you made some friends?”

“Some.” I crossed my arms. What was with all the questions?

“That’s good. You know, Wesley, you should always be aware of your place in things, as God intends.”

Wonderful. Another lecture. Just what I needed. Way too many parental figures in this house, and I couldn’t stand any of them. Walter wasn’t my dad. Roslyn and Yvonne had no real connection to me, and Jacqueline was my mother in name only. Life would be so much better if they would all ignore me. I could do my own thing, and they could pretend they changed my life and feel better for it.