The Bad Ones (18 page)

Dulcie was pretty sure no one had ever fallen for anyone the way she'd fallen for Con.

By the time she pulled up to his big house, it was almost eleven o'clock at night. She let herself into the house and called out a greeting, but no one answered. She went upstairs, but it was empty as well.

She wandered around Con's room for a bit. He'd moved into the master suite, it was where he kept all his clothing, but his old bedroom still held his life from before; pennants and ribbons and awards on the wall. Pictures and books on shelves. His letterman jacket was still draped across the back of a chair.

She laid on his bed and wondered what it would've been like to lay there in high school. To have dated the star quarterback, to have been the envy of all the girls. Would she have done it? At that Halloween dance so long ago, would she have let him take her home, let him take her virginity in that same bed?

Well, you gave it to him in a dirty old truck, not exactly a whole lot better.

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She figured nosiness didn't really apply to them and she yanked open the drawer on his nightstand. She almost laughed as the standard stash of porno mags came into view, but then something stopped her. She reached under the stack of magazines and pulled out a piece of paper. It was thick stock, not regular notebook paper, and the moment her fingertips touched it, she knew what it was.

It was a picture she'd drawn. When and where, she couldn't be sure. Probably at school. It was wrinkled and creased, a throw away. She'd balled it up at some point and tossed it into a trash can. It was detailed sketch of a schooner, nothing special, yet Con must have fished it out and kept it. She smiled and smoothed her fingers across the picture.

Also in the drawer was his senior yearbook. She turned to his color portrait and had a full on girly moment over how good he looked. Then she flipped through the pages, laughing at some of the notes and signatures people had written for him. But when she got to her own picture, she paused.

The small black and white photo had been circled in red, and not just once, but dozens of times. He'd gone round and round with a marker, over and over. Multiple times, and she was guessing not all at once. Enough times that there was an indentation in the paper, and for several pages behind it. In the center of the red circle, her unsmiling face peered out of the page, which wasn't abnormal in itself – Dulcie wasn't a big smiler. No, what was unusual was the fact that her eyes had been completely blacked out with a pen.

You weren't ready for me to see you, but you were too late – I knew what you were from the beginning.

She carried the yearbook and the drawing back into the master suite. She left them on the dresser, then went and took a hot shower. When she came back into the room, she called out again. Listened for an answer that she never got. She frowned and walked over to the closet. She put on the first shirt she grabbed, a pastel pink polo shirt that was frayed at the collar. She pulled it into place at the top of her thighs, then she sat at the foot of the bed.

And she waited.

Where the fuck is he!?

Con heard the footsteps before he saw anyone, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure how much longer he could've gone on for – Frannie was perilously close to coming, and he couldn't have that, but he couldn't pull away, either. She'd expect him to start getting naked. So he kept teasing her as much as he could, and was beyond happy when he realized someone was standing in the open doorway.

“
What. The. Fuck.
”

Jared Foster actually didn't look too mad. If anything, he looked blank. Devoid of emotion. His wife was straddling another man's lap, grinding against that man's hand, and still. Jared just stared into the room.

Frannie shrieked and fell backwards off Con. He smiled and rubbed his hands down the front of his pants.

“Hey, man, how's it going?” he asked in a nonchalant voice. Jared turned to look at him, and finally there was a spark in his eyes. Some anger. Some fire.

“Can you leave? I need to have a private moment with
my wife,
” he hissed. Frannie scrambled to her feet while shoving her dress into place.

“Honey, I know what this looks like … Con and I, we're old friends, we just -”

“Shut up, Frannie.”

“You left me here, and it was only dinner, and it's not what you think -”

“Shut. Up.”

“What did you think would happen!? You just left me out here, you don't understand what it's been like without -”

“
Shut the fuck up, Frannie!
”

Con had been in the middle of pulling on his jacket and he paused, his eyes bouncing between the couple. Jared's face was red, his eyes full of venom. Frannie couldn't seem to decide whether she wanted to look bitchy or pathetic. Con stood up and got between them.

“Hey, no need to yell, you're freaking her out,” he said.

“Are you serious? Get the fuck out, Constantine!” Jared shouted, then pointed out the door.

“Fine. But take it easy on her, she's just a chick. Frannie,” Con turned his attention to her as he walked backwards out the door. “If you need anything, don't hesitate to come see me.”

Her face lit up like Christmas Day, and Con moved into the hallway as Jared started shouting again. The damage had been done, there was nothing more he could do, so he simply went downstairs and headed out to the parking lot.

When he finally pulled up in front of his house, it was almost midnight. The entire downstairs was dark, but when he got inside, he could see lights glowing upstairs. He stopped to use a bathroom, then hurried up the stairs, calling out as he headed towards the bedroom.

“
I thought you were going to be gone all night.
”

He paused in the doorway to take off his jacket, and he took in the sight. Dulcie was laying at the end of the bed, with her knees raised up and her feet on the edge of the mattress. She was wearing an old polo shirt of his and nothing else. She didn't bother to look up as he walked towards her.

“Took longer than I thought,” was all he said, then he tossed his jacket into a nearby chair. She nodded, but still didn't look at him.

“Did you sleep with her?”

“Ooohhh, is that jealousy I detect?” he made fun of her, then pushed down on her knees. Her feet dropped to the floor and he crawled up so he was laying alongside her.

“Just answer the question, Con.”

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her. She kept her eyes on the ceiling. Her hair looked a little damp, and her face was devoid of make up, making her look even younger than normal. He put his finger on the side of her jaw and forced her to look at him.

“I did
exactly
what you told me to do,” he informed her, then he leaned in and kissed the side of her neck.

“Tell me everything,” she instructed him.

“I waited at her hotel and followed her to the mall,” he started to explain, basically rehashing the plan they'd come up with the other night, after he'd confessed to killing his dad. “Convinced her to have dinner with me. The woman talked
forever
, took me a while to get her back on track.”

“What time did you get to her hotel?”

“I don't know, like eleven.”

“Jesus, Jared left the club at around ten-thirty. Cutting it a little close, Romeo.”

“Hey, you're the one who told me to be subtle,” he reminded her. “I even got her to invite me back, had her convinced it was her idea.”

“So smooth,” she teased, pursing her lips at him.

“I know, right? I impress myself.”

“What next, lover boy.”

“We got to her hotel room and I shoved my tongue down her throat. That's pretty much all it took, I could've done anything I wanted to the girl,” he said. Dulcie went back to staring at the ceiling.

“Bummer for you.”

“Hey, this was
your
plan, remember?”

“Did you fuck her?”

“No,” he answered plainly, and she smiled.

“Good boy. So what all went down?” she asked.

“I sat on the bed and she straddled me. Jared walked in on us like that, she was fucking my fingers like it was her job. She just about had a panic attack when she realized she was caught,” he answered. Dulcie's eyes fluttered shut and she let out a sigh.

“I wish I'd been there. I miss all the fun stuff,” she breathed.

“Oh, yeah. Super fun,” he joked, moving his hand over her body and pushing the shirt up her stomach.

“If you'd spent the night like I had, you'd be jealous, too,” she assured him.

“Okay then, next time, you get to finger the girl in the relationship we're trying to break up,” he told her.

“I'd prefer that – he almost started crying at one point. I can't handle that shit,” she grumbled.

“Hey, I'm not arguing. You wanna be with another woman, I'm all for it,” he whispered, placing his hand flat on her abdomen. Her skin jumped and started at his touch, then he made his way to the valley between her breasts.

“What else happened?” she asked, her voice little more than a sigh. He leaned in close and bit down on the side of her jaw before sucking on the pulse point in her neck.

“She tried to play it off, he yelled at her, standard stuff,” he mumbled into her skin. He pressed himself up against her side and began sliding his hand back down her body. Before he could reach her legs, though, she grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“Did you wash your hands?” she asked, her voice loud in the quiet room. He laughed.

“Excuse me?”

“It's bad enough you had to touch her -”

“
Your
idea.”

“- but I'm certainly not letting you touch me if you're still stained with her,” Dulcie finished. He kept laughing and kissed down the side of her arm.

“
Yes,
I washed my hands. Twice,” he promised, then he moved so he was on top of her. He braced his hands on either side of her head and pushed himself up.

“Maybe you should shower,” she suggested. He playfully glared at her.

“I have an idea. Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Hmmm, have to think on that one ...”

Con didn't wait for her to answer, he crawled off her and walked over to the closet. It took a bit of digging before he found something suitable, and when he moved back over to the bed, he was holding a handful of old computer cables and telephones wires.

Dulcie stared at him with wide eyes, but didn't say anything when he grabbed her arms. Didn't resist when he stretched them out above her head and tied her wrists together. He figured that was as good as an actual answer, so he ran a cable from the headboard to her bindings and knotted them all together. If she rolled from side to side, she would be able to fall off the bed and stand up, but she wouldn't be getting loose anytime soon.

“Are you scared now?” he whispered, leaning over her again. She took a shaky breath.

“I could never be scared of you,” she whispered back.

He kissed her then. It felt like it had been a long time since his lips had touched hers. Probably because they'd spent the whole day apart, the first since they'd been together. Being with Frannie hadn't helped at all, it had just made it worse. No one kissed like Dulcie, no one tasted like her. When she wrapped her legs around his waist, he groaned and let himself fall flat on her, the bulge in his pants fitting squarely against her very naked crotch.

“I am going to spend hours feasting on you,” he growled into her ear, and he could feel her shiver at his words.

“God, that sounds amazing. Yes, yes I want that.”

He smiled.

“Good.”

Then he shoved himself up and walked into the bathroom.

Con took a long, hot shower, scrubbing every inch of his body. She'd had made a good point, he did need to bathe after being with Frannie. She'd sullied him, and Dulcie deserved to touch something pristine.

When he finally walked back into the bedroom, it was to find Dulcie rolling from side to side. She was muttering under her breath and yanking on her restraints. When she noticed him, she glared.

“What the fuck, Con?” she snapped. He pulled on a pair of pants and moved to the side of the mattress.

“You don't like it?” he asked, running his fingers along the taught telephone wire that stretched from her wrists to other end of the bed.

“Not when you leave me like this for half an hour! If you're not going to fuck me, then let me go,” she insisted. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“You didn't say please.”

She spit on him.

As punishment, he held her thighs open as wide as they would go and went down on her like he was starving. When she was crying his name, begging him for an orgasm, he stood up again. He gave her a messy kiss, then even as she was leaning in for another one, he turned and walked out of the room.

Her curses followed him all the way downstairs, but he ignored her. She begged and pleaded, faked crying, called him every dirty name he'd ever heard, and eventually moved on to bribing. She threw out some very interesting suggestions, but he stayed strong and wouldn't respond. Besides, he also knew he could do anything to her any time he wanted, so sexual bribes weren't very effective.

The windows in the living room faced out over a long driveway, and during the day, he could see clear to the street. It was night time, and though he couldn't see anything in the pitch black, he pulled a dining room chair up to the windows and sat down. He stared out into the darkness and listened to Dulcie's voice as it began to grow hoarse.

She was an amazing woman, and her evil, malicious little plot to end Jared and Frannie's marriage had been pretty dastardly, but still. Con couldn't let her one up him. He still had a couple hands to play. So even though it got later, and his raging hard on was growing to an epic level of uncomfortable, he still didn't move. He shoved his hands down his pants, trying to readjust, giving his cock a few slow strokes while he listened to her voice. Then he stopped. He didn't want to ruin all the fun before it even got started.

By the time he saw lights out on the street, Dulcie had grown quiet. He stood up and stared outside for a moment longer, then he grabbed something out of the kitchen and headed back up the stairs. Wondered if his captive had fallen asleep.

She had moved up the bed, loosening the slack on the chord, but it still wasn't long enough to allow her to touch herself. Her head had gotten buried under the pillows and he watched for a second while she rubbed her legs together, obviously seeking some kind of friction to relieve the pressure he'd built up in her.

“Doing okay?” he practically yelled, startling her. She tried to lift her head, but the pillows didn't move.

“
Mo fock yarshelf.
”

He grabbed her by the ankle and yanked her down the bed. She cried out when her bindings pulled tight, jerking painfully against her wrists. He slowly crawled over her, and though she was glaring, her legs very willingly parted for him.

“Listening to you scream and beg, I almost did just that,” he informed her. She strained her body towards his, trying to rub her breasts against his chest.

“What were you doing down there? I've been
dying,
” she moaned.

“
Do you trust me?
”

He'd asked the question earlier and she hadn't answered. Now he stared down at her, into her wide amber eyes. It wasn't really fair to ask right then, she was so turned on, she almost looked drugged. But she focused on him and she took a deep breath.

“I … I do,” she finally answered. He sighed.

“Such a good girl, Dulcie.”

He'd dropped the item he'd brought with him onto the bed and he felt around for it. When he finally found it and lifted it into view, Dulcie's eyes got even wider as she took in the knife he held.

“Oh my, what big fangs you have,” she whispered. He chuckled and pressed the dull side of the blade to her cheek.