Very Bad Things (15 page)

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Authors: Ilsa Madden-Mills

BOOK: Very Bad Things
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He groaned out loud and closed the distance between us fast,
thrusting his hands deep into my hair. “Fuck, I can’t stop this anymore,” he
ground out hoarsely, pulling me against him. He tugged my face up by my hair.
“This mouth is all I think about,” he whispered and pressed his lips to mine.
While his hands held my head, his mouth dominated. Wild and raw, his lips
sought mine over and over, claiming my mouth desperately, his hot tongue
sucking and then dueling with mine. He bit at my lips, and I responded, our
tongues in an erotic, open-mouthed tango. His lips glided across my jaw and
down to my neck where he sucked harder and harder and then soothed the hurt
with his tongue. I moaned.

This . . . this was a kiss. I never wanted it to stop. I
never wanted his lips to leave my body. This was like when Prince Charming
kissed Cinderella, only this prince was no gentleman; he was sexy and hot and
played a guitar. Instead of riding on a black stallion, he drove a bad-boy
Escalade. Instead of wearing a princely cloak, he wore tight True Religion
jeans.

It was fairytale fucking worthy.

“I want you like I’ve never wanted anything,” he said
roughly, his lips moving to kiss my collarbone and the tops of my breasts.

“I’m yours,” I told him, arching my body closer to him,
aching to feel him against my skin.

He pulled back and looked at me with hot, half-lidded eyes.
“Show me,” he commanded, and I knew what he wanted.

With trembling hands, I reached up and eased the dress down
until my breasts spilled out. I wanted to give him everything.

“Come here,” he said tenderly, pulling me close. He gazed at
my tiny wings for a long time until, finally, he touched me. Softly, his
fingers rubbed circles around my pierced breast, being careful around my
nipple. “Fucking gorgeous tits,” he murmured, his left hand finding my other
breast and massaging hard, the dichotomy of the different touches making me
gasp out loud. His heavy eyes watched me as he plucked my un-pierced nipple
with his fingers. I threw my head back and whimpered in need.

“You like that?” he asked huskily, kissing my neck and
moving down to my breast.

“Yes, Leo,” I breathed out as liquid heat shot straight to
my core.

“You smell so fucking good, Buttercup,” he said gruffly, his
hand drifting underneath my dress and skimming my outer thigh. His mouth closed
around my nipple and sucked while his fingers brushed against my panties.

I dug my fingers into his hair, holding him against my
breast as his tongue wrecked havoc on my body, sucking and biting. I panted as
he slipped his hand under the waistband of my panties and reached around to
palm my ass.

“Touch me,” I said desperately, wiggling around, trying to
his get fingers to my front. I needed them inside me.

“Be patient,” he growled against my skin.


Leo
, love me,” I begged, rocking against him,
needing the friction.

Abruptly, his hand stopped, and he pulled away, taking deep,
gasping breaths. His chest heaved up and down as he struggled to gain control.
He eased me away from him, pushing me until we were no longer touching. “Wait a
minute . . . shit, shit, shit . . . I went too far,” he said in a raspy voice,
like he’d just finished a run. He bent over and put his head in his hands.
“Fuck!”

I stood there, speechless.

He backed away from me and held his hands up. “Nora. I’m
sorry.”

“You’re
sorry
?” I yanked my dress back over my
breasts, not caring that it hurt. “How can you be so fucking condescending out
there in the kitchen and then drag me in here and kiss me and then
apologize
for it.”

“I won’t kiss you again,” he said, rubbing his hands across
his mouth, wiping it away.

I laughed disbelievingly. “Are you sure about that, Leo?
I’ve seen how you watch me, so don’t act like that was nothing. That kiss was .
. .” I paused, searching for the right word. “It was epic and you know it.”

“It was a big fucking mistake.”

I glared. I’d had enough of him, of his hot and then cold.
And him pushing me away couldn’t all be about the age difference. Something
else was keeping him away. But then, maybe it was all me. Maybe I was chasing
him and bringing all this on myself.

I needed to get away from him, but because I’m a glutton for
punishment, I couldn’t let it go. I said, “A psychic consultant? Really?
Ridiculous, Leo, just ridiculous. She’s stupid on a stick.”

“Yeah, so what? I can fuck her and not worry about it. You
know why I don’t worry? Because she’s legal! She can walk into a bar with me
and order a glass of wine and drink it! And she doesn’t care if I decide to not
see her tomorrow. I can’t
hurt
her.”

I shook my head, not understanding.

“Nora, I know you’re hiding secrets, and I’ll do whatever it
takes to get you back from that. No matter what, you’re a good girl with all
these great talents, and someday you’ll have a big future. Just not with me.
I’d just drag you down. I’d end up hurting you.”

“You already did,” I whispered out, seeing the truth. What
it came down to was I wasn’t worth it to him. I was too much work for him. Too
much effort.

Yet, there was something I wanted to say to him. Oh, it
wasn’t going to be the truth about how dirty I was. No. Just the thought of
that made me feel nauseated and short of breath, like a panic attack was
imminent. No way in hell could I tell him
that
.

I sighed and got my nerve up. I had to make him see. “Leo,
when your eyes found mine that day, I got lost, and I didn’t want to look away.
It was like the whole world vanished except for me and you. We connected
somehow. It was an extraordinary moment, and it builds and builds every time we
see each other. Have you ever thought that maybe . . . maybe we were meant to
be together, Leo?” I asked him, my eyes pleading with him to want me, to put me
first.

He searched my face for a long time, like he wanted to
commit it to his memory. He opened his mouth to say something but shook his
head instead, as if he’d lost a conversation with himself. Then, as if he’d
come to a hard decision, he tore his eyes from mine, focusing on something over
my shoulder. He seemed to gather himself, and I saw his face harden. I saw the
remoteness settle in his expression.

“There was never any eye-meeting connection. And there will
never
be a chance for us, Nora,” he said.

Well, fuck. If that wasn’t a brush-off, I didn’t know what
was. I swallowed painfully, wondering how I could have misconstrued everything
I thought had happened that day. It had all been one-sided. Feeling like I’d
been kicked in the teeth, I left, my eyes blurring with tears that I refused to
let fall. Not in front of him.

As soon as I walked back in the kitchen, Tiffani gave me the
once over, taking in my disheveled braids and smeared lip stick. She turned up
her nose at me. Maybe she wasn’t stupid after all, but her hateful expression
did make her very unattractive. Leo came in approximately seventy-two seconds
later, and it was satisfying to see that his face was still flushed and his
lips swollen.

Tiffani invited us to sample some of the hors d’oeuvres
she’d made, so we filled our plates. Mila and Sebastian munched away, and I
pretended to, watching as Tiffani teasingly fed Leo mini quiches and cucumber
sandwiches. She’d lean over close to him, tell him to open wide, and then she’d
put the food on his lips, like he was a fucking baby seal at the zoo, and it
was feeding time. When his lips would touch her fingers she’d giggle, and every
time she did, his eyes would linger on her quivering chest. I gagged inside but
gave them my fakest smile, not that he was paying any attention to me anyway
because he never acknowledged me. Tiffani did though, with a smile of triumph
playing across her lips.

While feeding time continued, I stood quietly while Mila and
Sebastian chatted about who was who at BA. As they ate their food, I stared at
my plate unable to stomach food or seeing Leo flirt with Tiffani, the girl who
didn’t care if he hurt her. Right. I didn’t buy that line for a minute. She was
in love with him, and he was blind if he didn’t see it.

His words had decimated me, and his actions were even worse.

When it was time to go, Sebastian cleared his throat and
spoke to Leo who had apparently forgotten we were there. “Alrighty then, I
guess we’ll head out and . . . uh . . . leave you guys alone. We’ll be back
around midnight.”

Leo nodded and gave the thumbs up sign to Sebastian, since
his mouth was full of bacon-wrapped mushrooms.

Grinding my teeth together, I walked out of the room.

 

 

 

 

“Every
time I say I’m going to forget about her, five minutes later,

I
find myself thinking about her all over again.”


Leo
Tate

 

 

NORA WALKED OUT the door to go to
the party, and I watched her the entire way. I felt like shit, and I wanted to
chase after her and beg her to forgive me for being a prick in the bathroom.
But I had to let her go.

Disgusted, I pushed away from Tiffani, grabbed my beer and
drank it down. In my head, I knew I shouldn’t have kissed Nora, but my body had
taken over, tired of being denied something I’d wanted since day one. And I’d
lied to her. That kiss
had
been fucking epic. It had been white-hot and
more passionate than any kiss I’d ever had. I’d nearly lost control in there,
forgetting that I’d promised myself I’d leave her alone.

I took another beer out of the fridge and stared out the
window, watching her as she headed for Sebastian’s blue Beamer. My heart raced
again, taking in her too-short-for-public dress, long legs, and cowboy boots. I
slammed my beer down on the counter. Why did I want her so fucking much? Why
couldn’t I push her away like I did everyone else? Why couldn’t I breathe when
I saw her?

My heart knew the answer, and I’d realized it at the movies.
I . . . I think maybe if I let her in, she might get under my skin so deep that
I’d never want her to leave. That terrified me.

All these weird feelings I had for her made me crazy. And,
I’d completely forgotten there were other people in the loft. All I’d been able
to think about was her, the way her body felt pressed against mine, the way
she’d seemed just as frantic for me as I’d been for her. But when she’d said
the word
love
, I’d panicked. I had no right messing with her head or
getting her hopes up that we were in love. That was cruel.

Nora needed better than me. She needed someone who knew how
to love her the way she deserved.

I took a drink, thinking about my parents. What had happened
to them was the real reason I didn’t want to love anyone. Loving people hurt;
losing them could destroy you. The day my parents died I realized how fast you
can have it all snatched away from you. I’d hardened my heart because I’d
rather be alone than invite that kind of pain back into my life. I liked my
life this way; I did what I wanted, and no one got hurt.

Then why did I feel this aching void right in the center of
my chest? Why did I feel so hollow? So alone?

I rubbed my forehead, wishing I’d told Tiffani to not come
over. Whatever we’d had was done. But I’d wanted her here so I could forget
about Nora. But it hadn’t worked. Not yet.

“What’s up with you and that Blakely girl?” Tiffani said,
coming to stand beside me, running her red lacquered fingernails across my
chest. Her heavy, floral perfume swept over me, nothing like Nora’s
intoxicating scent of peaches.

“Nothing,” I said, feeling empty inside as I watched the car
pull out and drive away. Feeling numb as Tiffani touched me. “Nothing at all,”
I said, still staring out the window. Nora was gone.

Tiffani wrapped her arms around me and pulled me down for a
kiss. “Prove it.”

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