Jerk: A Bad Boy Romance (6 page)

“Say it,” he whispered in my ear.

His warm breath caressed the sensitive skin on my neck. It dimpled, goose bumps burning my arm and chest.

“Say what?” I asked. What did he want to hear? What did I want to say? No? Stop? Yes? Please? Oh God, I was so confused!

His hand glided down the hollow of my stomach and I shuddered.

“Say it,” he repeated, voice sharper. He traced a line down the column of my neck with the tip of his tongue and I shivered. I curled my fingers into tight fists.

“Say what?” I repeated, this time on a whimper. That wicked hand slipped down between my trembling legs, and I sucked in a gasp. I couldn’t breathe. “I...” I mumbled. I gazed up into eyes so dark and dangerous my muscles locked.

His lip curled into a sexy smile. “I tried to resist. This is going to complicate everything. But...dammit...” He fisted my hair, forcing my head to the side.

What the hell was this? Why was he being so rough?

And what did he mean, tried to resist?

I wanted answers. But I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. I shut down. Shock. Need. I was so overwhelmed by both I merely lay there. My scalp burned, but I didn’t cry out. The pain was nothing compared to the agony pounding through the rest of my body.

Pain so, so good.

I opened my mouth. Words sat on the tip of my tongue. I didn’t know what those words were, not until I heard them. “Do it. Take me.”

Did I really just say that?

Releasing my hair, he grabbed my top with both hands. “What did you say?” He yanked it over my head and a gush of juices dampened my labia. He unhooked my bra. “What did you say?”

What had I said? I couldn’t remember. All I knew was this horrible, empty ache inside. I was trembling and desperate. I wanted him inside me, stroking it away. No, I
needed
him inside me.

“Say it again.” He straddled my hips and pushed my bra straps down my arms, freeing my breasts. He pinched both nipples. Sharp blades of pleasure-pain stabbed through my body. “Say it, Morgan.”

“I want...”

“What?”

Oh God. This was all too much. I needed relief. Desperately. But every few seconds a thought would fly through my head and I would second-guess everything. That was happening right now. Right this very second. “I...I don’t know.”

“This?” He rolled my nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, and I sucked in a deep breath.

“Ah, so that
was
it.” He bent over my aching breasts. A warm tongue lapped at one nipple and the burning in my body amplified. Moving lower, he teased me, tormented me, tongue flicking over the sensitive skin on my trembling stomach. Lower, he traced the waistband of my skirt. My hips rocked forward. My empty channel clenched. Cream gushed.

“Please,” I begged, my body so tight my muscles were cramping. A moan vibrated in my throat.

“You beg so sweetly, baby.” The slough of fabric cut through the tense silence. Oh God, he was taking off his pants. And he was so fucking beautiful. The dim moonlight highlighted the curves of his muscles and defined the deep cuts between them. Before I could stop him, he was lifting my hips, the tip of his cock prodding at my empty opening again.

Oh, God. He was going to do it, to, fill me. And he wasn’t wearing a condom.

“Wait!” I said, even as my back arched. If there was one thing I didn’t need, it was a child. Not now.

“If you’re worried about protection, I can’t get you pregnant. Bull riding accident. Years ago. And I regularly see a doctor. All clean.”

I don’t know why, but I believed him. Maybe because I wanted to. I nodded and his cock slammed deep, the head pushing against the opening of my womb. His shaft stretched me to almost the point of pain but not quite. He fit perfectly, big enough to stroke every nerve as he plunged in, and stroke them again on the way out. He fucked me hard, skin striking skin, a loud smack echoing through the night. His fingertips dug into my flesh as he held me in place. Massive waves of heat crashed through my body.

Beneath him, I rocked into his thrusts, welcoming his possession. Never did I want a man to own my body like Clay was now. Inside, an inferno blazed. Lust pounded through my veins. My skin sizzled. Bolts of electricity arced between my nerves. A massive orgasm gathered power, like a ferocious storm. Swirling, spinning, thundering.

Releasing my hip, he raked his fingernails down my thigh. The sting was my undoing. I tumbled into an orgasm so violent it took my breath away. I heard myself scream before I realized I had made a sound. His voice blended with mine. His cock swelled as his cum filled my channel, the increased girth and added lubrication intensifying my pleasure. My pussy convulsed around his cock and I trembled and quaked beneath him until there wasn’t an ounce of strength left in me.

He kissed my forehead and pulled out, and I lay limp but giggling. I was giddy. I was worn out. And I was confused. I’d just had sex with Clay.

Ohmygod.

What now?

What had I done?

What was next?

T
he next morning I opened my eyes. I yawned. I stretched. And then I smiled. Last night had been... quite a surprise. A very pleasant one. What had started out as a let’s-make-peace dinner turned into let’s-make-love-until-the-freaking-universe-exploded sex. Clay and I had sex. Under the stars. And it had been so romantic... and fun. And... Ohmygod mind-blowing.

Maybe I’d been a little hasty when I’d said I was done with bad boys yesterday. Maybe there was a reason why so many women chased after the naughty ones, with that glimmer in their eye.

Maybe I’d been wrong, calling Clay a bad boy. Could it be he wasn’t so bad? I had to admit, because of what had happened years ago, when we were both younger and perhaps a little immature, my image of him had been tainted. I could have made assumptions, jumped to conclusions, believed the worst about him. It was easy to do. He’d been such a jerk when he was younger.

Absolutely. I could have been mistaken, prejudiced.

But that was over. Now I would take him at face value and treat him accordingly. And thus, it appeared this bad boy had grown into a good man. He’d been kind enough to offer me a ride home the day I’d fallen off the bicycle. He’d brought me breakfast the next morning. Were those the actions of a heartless asshole? Doubtful.

Now, as far as that little problem regarding his employment...well, there was still that. But it could be worked around.

With a smile on my face, I got dressed, making sure I looked extra cute in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I made a quick breakfast—two scrambled egg whites. And then I stomped into my shit-kickers and headed out to the barn to start my morning routine...

And ran smack dab into someone.

A woman.

A woman I’d never seen before.

Thoroughly confused, I jumped back and blurted, “I’m sorry.” But then I realized I was apologizing to a stranger...who was trespassing on my property. Why was she trespassing? I folded my arms. “Can I help you?”

“My name is Lacy. And I’m a friend of Clay’s. I need to speak with him,” the trespasser said. It did not escape my attention that the trespasser possessed a banging body and perfect hair. I didn’t like the look of her. Too perfect. Too fake. From the lashes to the fingernails to the tits that stood up too perky.

I told Miss Fake, as I pointed at the road, “You can speak with him on his own time, not mine. Now, please get off
my
property.”

Miss Fake glared and pursed her collagen-enhanced lips. “I know who you are, Morgan Pierce. Now that you own this ranch, you act all high and mighty. But you’ll get knocked off that high horse soon enough, once you learn the truth.” She thrust out one hip. “You think you’re special but you’re not. You’re no different than the others.” Her glare ice cold, she sauntered up to me. “I know he had plans with you last night. Let me guess. He took you to the hay field behind his house and cooked you dinner on an open fire.”

Holy shit.

“And then he suggested you lay in the bed of his truck and look at the stars.”

Holy shit!

And he told you that sad, sad story about when he was a kid and he’d dreamed of someday going to school and becoming an astronaut. And you felt so bad for him that you didn’t stop him when he kissed you.”

That fucker!

I was stunned into absolute silence. I wanted to speak. I wanted to deny every word. But I couldn’t.

It was true.

All of it.

The field. The dinner. The story about wanting to be an astronaut.

Miss Fake’s smug smile broadened. “I know every trick. He used them on me. And on every girl in this whole fucking town. Don’t let his sad story and charm fool you. He’s a fucking snake. The worst kind. The kind that disguises himself, pretending to be a soft, sweet little rabbit. It’s only once you’re bitten, and you feel the venom pumping through your body, that you know the truth. And then it’s too late.”

My face flamed.

Once again, he played me. And I let him! What kind of fool was I?

I was furious. At him. At myself. And at the woman who’d dropped this bomb in my lap and seemed to be gloating about it.

“Why did you come here?” I snapped, unable to hide my emotions. “Did you really come to speak with him? Or rub my face in shit?”

Miss Fake planted her hands on her hips. “I told you about him because I thought you might want to know. But that wasn’t why I came here. I came to talk to him about the fucking child support he owes me.”

Child support?

Child. Support! If someone waved a feather at me, I would have fallen over.

Child. Clay had a child. The guy who’d said he couldn’t get a woman pregnant? He was a father?

Maybe that was before his accident?

“You see?” Miss Fake cocked her head. “I fell for
all
that bastard’s tricks. Every last one. Including when he said he couldn’t get me pregnant because of an accident he had a few years ago.”

Oh, shit. It wasn’t.

“Lies. That’s all that comes out of that man’s mouth. Lies. The way I saw it, I was doing you a favor today. I could’ve kept my mouth shut and let you walk right into the trap.” She sighed and for an instant, she looked different, vulnerable, not bitchy. “I know you won’t thank me. Not yet. But, someday, you will.” She turned around, and without speaking another word, climbed into her shitty, beat up pickup truck and skidded away, sending up a cloud of dust that obscured everything around me, exactly as her words had obscured everything

I thought I knew about this Clay, the adult Clay.

Then all those disgusting comments he’d tossed at me when I’d first arrived played through my head.

Well, I think we both know what I want.

I’m not going to force you or anything. You know I’m not the kind.

Asshole. It was true. I knew it in my gut.

Clay hadn’t changed. He was still the fucking jerk that stole women’s innocence, broke their hearts, and destroyed their lives. Why had I thought, for even one second, that he might have changed? People didn’t change. I should’ve known that much by now. I wasn’t a stupid, clueless teenager anymore.

I flattened my hand on my belly.

At least I wouldn’t end up like Lacy, pregnant with his child and chasing his sorry ass for child support. Not at this point in my cycle.

But I couldn’t be sure that wouldn’t happen if I was alone with him again.

He wasn’t just good at seducing women. He was
great
at it. And I was too fucking weak to see through his games. Even now, doubts echoed in my head.

What if she was lying?

What if Clay really did feel all those things he’d told me he felt last night?

How would I know the truth? Would I ever know the truth?

Dammit.

My eyes started to sting.

Oh, hell no. I was not going to cry again. Not over Clay Walker. If what Lacy said was true, he wasn’t worth a single tear. Not one.

I blinked a few times. I sucked in a few breaths and let them out slowly. My eyes stopped burning. But I was still mad. No, make that furious.

“I should fire his sorry ass,” I spat as I stormed into the barn.

Rocket kicked the wall.

“Feeling you, Rocket.” I reached for his cheek but, responding to my anger, he turned his face away. “Shhhh. It’s okay.” I reached a second time, and this time the horse didn’t flinch. My fingers touched smooth, warm hair. Instantly, a tiny bit of the tension snaking through my body loosened. I sighed and so did the skittish horse. His head turned slightly, and his eye focused on mine. “What do you see when you look at me? Do you see a fool?”

He nodded his head and blew out a snort.

“Yeah, just what I thought.” I tipped my head, resting my forehead against his. “I must have idiot written across my forehead.”

“Now, why would you say a thing like that?” someone asked behind me.

That someone was the fucking jerk who’d sweet-talked me out of my panties last night. Who might have lied to my face. Who might have told me everything I’d been waiting for years to hear.

Might have? Why was I giving this jerk the benefit of the doubt?

I whirled around and gave him a death glare.

His brows scrunched. “What’s this? Are you mad at me?”

“Mad? At you? Now, why would I be mad?” I asked, sarcasm dripping from every word.

He shouldered a nearby post. “I’d sure like to know that, myself.” He blinked wide eyes at me, as if he had no clue why I was upset.

“So you’re going to play innocent?” I bit out, venting my hurt and anger. I couldn’t hold back. It was impossible. I’d trusted this guy last night, despite what he’d done to me four years ago. I’d convinced myself he’d grown up. Why was I such a fool? When he’d been acting like a total asshole since I’d come back? A couple of nice gestures and I was ready to forget everything? “I’d have more respect for you if you’d just own up to being an asshole.”

He tipped his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. Several seconds of tense silence passed between us and then he shook his head. “I swear, I have no idea what’s going on. I mean, last night was great.”

I wave of heat washed through me at the memory. “Oh, sure it was. You got what you wanted since I stepped back in Dawson, didn’t you?”