Dragon: A Bad Boy Romance (7 page)

~~~~~~~

I'm in the shower, soaping up. It's a big night tonight – my father's birthday. Every other year, there's been a room booked and a huge party, but this time he's holding the bash at our home. He says that he wants to breathe some life into the place, but I think that's really because he's afraid. A big, public party can't be controlled, and anyone could slip in uninvited. I'm excited, because it's a relief from the tension that's been silently filling the house. My father is completely and utterly stressed out. It's different to when Mom died – back then, he was just so sad that it broke my heart. Now, he's rattled, jumping at noises and snapping at everyone around him.

The guests will be pretty much just the guys who work with and for my father, and I'm hoping that he'll relax a little if he doesn't have to stand on ceremony. On the other hand, though, I'm worried about how Carl will act. He's made it pretty clear what he thinks about people like that. But he'll be outnumbered a hundred to one, so hopefully he'll keep his opinions to himself.

I hear the bathroom door click quietly.
Oh, God.
Dragon slips into the shower behind me, naked. He wraps his arms around my waist, and starts to nuzzle at my neck.

“You've been avoiding me,” he says.

“Yeah.” He noticed, then.

“Why?” His hands are gliding over my skin, and I can feel his cock pressing against me.

“Because of this! We can't keep doing this. We have to stop.”

“Because of Carl? Do you feel bad about cheating on him?”

His hands are on my breasts, rubbing over my nipples, making them into stiff peaks. I know I should tell him to stop, but it feels so good...

“I don't feel bad. I hate him.”
Where did that come from?
I've never told Dragon how I really feel about Carl.

“Then why are you with him?” he asks, surprised.

“I... I don't know. Because it makes my dad happy. You've seen how it is, he really wants this for me.”

“He wants you to be with someone that you hate?”

He traces a finger down my spine.

“No... he just... I don't know...” I can barely think, let alone explain how I've somehow ended up being dragged into a relationship with a man I despise.

“Dump his sorry ass, then.” He makes it sound so simple, so reasonable. I try to drag my mind back to what I was saying.

“We can't do this any more because of my dad. If he finds out...”

“He'll kill me. I know. Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself,” he says.

“It's not just that. It's me. He won't hurt me or anything, but he'll be... disappointed. He thinks I'm a good girl. I can't bear the thought of him knowing what I really am,” I say, realizing it's true.

“Okay then,” he says. “We'll stop. But do you want to stop
before
...”

With one hand, he begins to massage my clit. But there's something else. The finger that was tracing along my spine moves further down, until it's gently pressing against my asshole. I freeze, feeling scared but also excited. I've never done that before, not with anyone. I've always been afraid it would hurt.

“... or
after
,” he finishes.

“I haven't – I mean – not before...” I manage.

“I can be gentle,” he says.

There's a bottle of baby oil on the shelf, and he picks it up. When his finger moves back to my ass, it's slick. I tense up as I feel it slide in, but it doesn't hurt like I thought it would.

“Is this good?” he asks, moving his finger back and forth.

“Yeah,” I breathe. It
is
good. Strange, but good.

There's a feeling of pressure as he adds a second finger, keeping the rhythm going. It's more intense, but still manageable.

“Are you ready for me?” he whispers.

Am I?
His cock is long and thick, and suddenly I wonder if this is such a good idea. But...

“Gentle, remember?” I say, and he chuckles.

There's a weird feeling of emptiness as his fingers pull away. The I feel the bulbous head of his cock, pressing against me.
Holy shit.
It's a lot bigger, and the sensation of being stretched is way stronger. It's somewhere between pleasure and pain.

He's taking it really slow, though. Each time, he pushes it in just a little further, before sliding back a little. Every time he goes deeper, there's a burst of pressure, of being
opened,
and I soon realize that I'm waiting for it, anticipating it. I
want
him to go deeper. All the time, he's whispering in my ear, making sure I'm not in pain. He's being tender, and I'm amazed to find that I trust him not to hurt me, not to start slamming it in without any care for anything beyond his own pleasure.

I feel his balls on my ass, and realize that he's all the way in.

“This is all of it,” he says. “Tell me if I go too hard.”

I feel full, and stretched, and breathless, but it's a good feeling. As he starts to move faster, his hand moves round to my clit again, working it in time with his movements. I start to press against him, urging him on, begging his to go faster as the orgasm starts to build. Soon he's fucking my ass as hard as he does my pussy, but it feels amazing. As the fireworks start to explode, waves of electricity pulse through my body. His cock starts to pulse, and I am pushed even higher as he spurts inside me, groaning.

We stand there for a moment in the hot steam, floating back down to earth. His strong arms are wrapped around me, and I feel safe and warm, content for the first time in forever.

“What a way to say goodbye,” he says.

“Does it have to be?” I ask.

“You're the one who wants to stop doing this,” he points out.

“I know, but...” I take a deep breath. “Sneaking around is one thing. What if we were together? Like, as a couple?”

“Like you and Carl?” he says pointedly.

He squeezes me tighter for a second, and then sighs.

“No,” he says slowly. “No offense, but you don't want
me
. You want someone to rescue you. From your douchebag boyfriend, from your daddy's grip. You want a knight in shining armor, but you need to sort your shit out and stand on your own two feet. Trust me, it's the only way.”

He kisses me, to take away the sting of the rejection, and leaves.

I get dressed mechanically, not paying attention to what I'm doing. Dimly, I can hear the sound of guests arriving, but I'm miles away, thinking about what Dragon said. I don't care that he turned me down – it was a crazy suggestion. I don't even know why I said it. But everything else that he'd said had struck a chord.

It was all true. If my father really loves me, then he won't want me to be with Carl, not when he makes me so unhappy. But I can't just provide my father with an alternative to Carl. I need to stand up for myself, and tell Dad how I feel. Tell him that he can't control my life any more. After all, what's the worst that could happen? I'm a grown adult – if I wanted to, I could move out. I don't
need
his money. I could get a job. Yeah, I'm not really qualified to have a career like Carl, but I can do things! I could wait tables, or work in a store, anything to cover the bills. I could rent a little apartment. Millions of Americans do it every day, so why not me? He can't keep me locked down forever. The stupid letters are
only
letters. There's no proof that anything is going to happen to me.

Or maybe it won't come to that. Maybe he'd understand that I need my own life, and be accepting of it. The point was, Dragon was right. I need to sort my shit out and stand up for myself. I don't want to ruin Dad's party, so I decide to go along with things for tonight and talk to him first thing tomorrow afternoon. He'll be easier to deal with once his hangover's worn off a little.

The noise from downstairs is growing louder, and I realize that I'm running late. Everyone will have arrived by now. I say a silent prayer that a guest has already snapped and beaten Carl unconscious, and then I head downstairs, feeling like a weight has lifted from my shoulders.

As I get to the top of the staircase, I see that Carl is waiting for me at the bottom, with all his limbs intact.
Shame.
I'm halfway down when I hear my father yell out.

“She's here!”

Nearly all the guests are gathered in the hall, and at my father's shout, more are crowding in. Every person is looking at me, and they're all smiling. All except one. Dragon is standing at the back, off to one side, and his expression is like granite.

What the hell is going on?

And then I catch sight of the banner. My blood turns to ice. Instead of saying 'Happy Birthday' - like it should, at my father's birthday party – it says something else. The banner reads 'Congratulations Honey & Carl'.

No. Oh god, no. Don't let this be what I think it is.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” My father's voice carries through the crowd, hushing them. “Before this party gets started, Carl here needs to ask my daughter a question!”

I watch in horror as Carl goes down on one knee, producing a small velvet box from his pocket. He opens it, and I see my mother's engagement ring.

“Honey,” he says loudly, “will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

The crowd holds their breath, waiting. I know they're not waiting to see what I might say. They're waiting to cheer, because they're at an engagement party,
my
engagement party, and that's what happens. I look at Carl, and feel nothing. I look at my father. The tension that has been lining his face lately has gone. He's proud, and happy. I can't bring myself to wipe that look off his face. I don't look at Dragon.

“Yes,” I say.

The crowd cheers.

~~~~~~~

I've made a huge mistake.
That's the thought that runs through my mind on a constant loop. I feel like I'm trapped in a nightmare as he slides the ring onto my finger. Faces swim up in front of me, smiling, congratulating. I want to scream, to cry, to run away, out into the night. But I can't. Instead, I let Carl lead me proudly around the party like I'm the prize hog at the county fair. What's wrong with me? I was so happy when I decided to confront my father. And now, I've thrown it all away.

I become aware that someone has asked me a question, and I am jolted back to reality. We are talking to Mr Donaldson, one of my father's business associates.

“Pardon?” I say politely. “The music is so loud!”

“I was saying, I'll have to get Carl here to take a look at my case. The damn feds.”

“I'm sure he'd love to,” I say, even though I have no idea what case he's talking about.

Carl smiles, and makes some excuses. He leads me out of the room, down a hallway. As the door closes behind us, the smile on his face vanishes.

“Are you fucking high?” he spits. “I'm not going
near
that case. Your father should be fucking grateful I took
you
off his hands. I'm not taking all his criminal buddies as well.”

He grabs my throat and slams me against the wall.

“Don't ever embarrass me like that again,” he hisses into my ear. I'm shut down, speechless with fear. I can feel him getting hard as he presses against me.

“Don't worry,” he says, his hand still wrapped around my throat, “I'm not going to defile Daddy's precious little girl. At least not until after the wedding. But you need to start showing me some respect, you stupid bitch.”

His fingers are digging into me, hard. I can't breathe.

“I've seen the way you look at that tattooed moron. It stops, tonight. You belong to me now, so fucking act like it.”

He releases me and steps back. The warm, friendly smile is back on his face.

“Now,” he says brightly, offering me his arm, “let's get back. It is our special night, after all...”

Chapter Five - Dragon

I'm pissed off. How have I got trapped in this situation? I miss the ring, the fighting, my old life. This job has turned into a joke. I don't care how much money Freeman's paying me, I want out. But I can't. He isn't a man you say no to, and besides, I don't get paid until he says I'm done. If I walk away now, it's all been for nothing.

If I'm honest, it's not him I'm pissed at. Or the job. It's her, Honey. I don't even know
why
I'm pissed. What she chooses to do is no concern of mine. But that time in the shower, when she admitted – claimed – to hate the douchebag, I started to see her in a different light. Maybe she wasn't the spoiled little princess after all. Maybe she had some character.

But then dickface dropped to one knee and flashed a big rock at her, and suddenly she loves him. So fucking shallow. Since then, I've been avoiding being alone with her, because I don't trust myself not to say anything about it. And I have to remember my place, as Carl likes to remind me when Tony's not listening. I'm the help, and the help doesn't get an opinion on what the lady of the house does.

I'm so fucking frustrated that I decide to ask Tony if I can take the night off.

“Sure,” he says. “Honey and I are gonna have dinner together, talk about the wedding plans.”

“That sounds... great,” I say. “Do they have a date yet?”

“Yeah, end of next month,” he says. “I was meaning to talk to you about that. Once they get married, you're done here. They'll be going off on honeymoon – Europe, can you believe it? Me and Honey's mom never left America our entire lives, and our little girl's gonna see it all!”

He's beaming with pride, and I find myself absurdly touched. I can't imagine what it's like to have a father who's proud of you, and wants you to succeed in life. It looks pretty cool, though.

Better news is that I finally have an end in sight, and with what I'll get paid, I could go to Europe myself if I wanted to. The letters have stopped coming – there hasn't been one since before they got engaged – and with Honey out of the country I will be free to leave.
Thank fuck for that.