Fantasy Boyfriend #2 (A Tattooed Bad Boy Romance) (6 page)

We sat together with the engine idling for a moment or
two, and then I turned to Greg to tell him that I had had a nice evening. At
that moment, he leaned toward me. I knew he was going to kiss me. I figured
that one kiss wouldn't hurt. Besides, I wanted to see if his kiss elicited the
same spark as Luke's had. Not wanting to make it seem too awkward for him, I
leaned slightly forward, giving him the indication that I was willing. When our
lips touched, it was nice, comfortable, no pressure…but no spark, either. After
several seconds, he leaned back, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. I
was glad he didn't press for another one.

"I had a really nice time tonight with you,"
he said. "Would you be open for a second date?"

I didn't really want to date Greg, not because he
wasn't a nice guy, but maybe because he was
too
nice. Not that I wanted a guy who treated me badly, but as long as I was so
captivated by Luke – the bad boy – it seemed rather unfair to keep stringing
Greg along. Then again, if that's what it took to make Luke mine, maybe it was
worth it. That was from my perspective, of course, and Greg might not feel the
same way if he knew about it, but it wasn't as if I was going to shout it from
the rooftops. "Why don’t you text me, and maybe we can decide on something
next week," I said.

He reached into his console and pulled out a small
memo pad and a pen and handed it to me. “Could you write your email down, too?
I quickly wrote down my phone number so that he could send me an email, a text
or call, but then I had second thoughts and glanced up at him. "I don't
usually keep my phone on all day.” I shrugged. “Mostly because it seems as if
I'm in class all the time, and then when I'm here I'm doing a lot of studying,
but I turn it on occasionally. When I get messages, I respond, okay?" If
he thought it was odd that a college student didn't have their phone on and
working every second, he didn't say anything about it. Rather, he nodded in
understanding.

"I love technology, but I'll tell you, sometimes
our gadgets are just too time-consuming. I understand completely."

He looked at me like he wanted to kiss me again, but I
didn't really want him to, so I made a move to open the truck door. He made the
same move on his side.

"Let me walk you to your door," he said,
reaching for his door handle.

I thought that was really sweet, but unnecessary.
"I'll be fine," I said, gesturing for him to stay where he was.
“Let's touch base next week, okay?"

"Okay," he smiled. "You have a good
rest of your evening."

"You, too, Greg," I said. I stepped out of
the truck and shut the door, offered him a little wave, and then turned to walk
up to the front door of the old Victorian. I watched Greg pull away from the
curb and head down the street. It had been a nice date, I thought, but there
was no chemistry, no sparks. Was I doomed to compare every date I had with Luke
from now on? Was that hardly fair?

I had just reached for the doorknob when I heard a
man's voice call my name. I spun around, my heart racing as I peered into the
darkness of yards next door and then the street.

"Jessica!"

I turned and saw Luke. He stepped out of the shadows
of the house next door as if he was a criminal, a man desperate to escape
detection. My heart gave a leap of excitement. He
was
jealous! He was so jealous that he even left his date to come
here, waiting for me. I glanced up and down the street and then saw his
motorcycle, parked underneath the shadows of an elm tree a few doors down. I
tried not to let my enthusiasm show on my face and continued to play it cool. I
didn't go inside, but turned and watched as Luke slowly walked toward me, his
expression serious. I think I can honestly say that it was the first time that
I saw him without that reckless grin on his face. I waited, not showing any
expression, until he approached the front porch where I stood now with my arms
crossed over my chest, trying to send him a haughty look as if it didn't matter
one iota to me that he was standing there in front of me. But it did.

"Jessica," he began, glancing down at his
feet, shifting uncomfortably.

I had never seen him quite so unsure of himself. Where
was the happy-go-lucky Luke? Where was the reckless grin, the
I-don’t-care-what-happens attitude? I lifted an eyebrow, indicating that I was
open to what he had to say.

"Jessica, I want to apologize for the way I've
been acting lately."

You could've knocked me over with a feather. I was
incredibly surprised. What? Actual human feelings coming out of this guy
standing in front of me? The one who behaved so callously toward others? I said
nothing, knowing that he would fill the silence.

"I do apologize for the way I've treated you.
Sometimes, when I feel awkward or unsure how things are going, I tend to do
that-"

"Do what, Luke?" I asked coolly.
"Embarrass and humiliate women? Use them for your pleasure and then ignore
them?" That was kind of harsh, but there was a part of me that just had to
get that out.

He nodded slowly. "Sometimes I use women to make
myself feel better. I don't know why, and I'm not condoning it, I'm just trying
to explain it to you." He paused, glanced up, and then stared off down the
street as if something in the distance interested him.

I didn't follow his gaze, knowing that he was probably
embarrassed to be standing here in front of me talking like this. What had
prompted it? And how could someone so confident, so handsome, and as
charismatic as Luke Bradford get the feeling that he had to use women to make
himself feel better? Feel better about what? I was tempted. The question
blurted out of me before I could stop myself. "What do you need to feel
better about, Luke?"

He looked up, offered a lame shrug, and then muttered
a reply. I couldn't believe it. He was acting like dog that had done a bad
thing and come up to its master to request forgiveness, right down to the puppy
dog eyes. What the hell? This wasn't the Luke I knew. This was an uncertain and
conflicted young man. A part of me wanted to reach out and give him a hug, tell
them all was forgiven. Another part of me, the one who had been callously
dumped and talked about, wanted to make them squirm a bit. "I don't
understand, Luke."

He shook his head. "I like you, I really
do-"

"You could've fooled me," I said.
"After our first date you didn't so much as make an effort to reach out to
speak to me. Not only that, you snubbed me, Luke. Did you know that gossip has
been floating around school? And then, to top it off, I see you with two or
three different women, acting as if that's perfectly acceptable behavior? And
now you're on my doorstep, wanting me to do what? Forgive you? For using me?
For spreading rumors about me-"

He glanced up sharply. "I didn't spread any
rumors about you," he said, shaking his head, eyes wide with surprise.
"In fact, I didn't even tell anybody that we'd gone out."

I rolled my eyes. "Be that as it may, people have
been talking about me. And you. And what we did."

"They knew we went to the woods?"

I hesitated. "Well, not exactly, but they did
know that you took me to the sushi restaurant and we made out there, and then
there was gossip that later on…well, you know."

He frowned. "I'm really sorry about that,
Jessica," he said. “Really, I am. I'm not too good with relationships, as
if you couldn't tell, and anyway, I just came here to apologize. I'm sorry if I
hurt you, and it won't happen again. I promise."

He stood there in front of me, shuffling his foot
against the ancient wood of the porch. For a second, I felt a twinge of
sympathy. However, I wanted to get to the bottom of this. Did he like me or
not? And if he did, what was it that compelled him to behave the way he did? If
we were to have any kind of a relationship I had to get this dealt with.
Otherwise, I certainly wasn't going to put myself through the torture of this
on-again off-again surge of feelings that I felt toward him.

"Well, I guess I better be going-"

I reached for the door and opened it, pushing it
gently inward. Gone was the confidence he usually conveyed, the arrogance that
he could do no wrong that was coupled with his formerly reckless attitude.
"You want to come inside for a minute?" I asked. "We can
talk."

Chapter
13

All of the lights were off inside. For a moment, I
felt confused.

"Where is everybody?" Luke asked.

I headed toward the stairs, not needing any lights to
make my way around inside the house. As I climbed the stairs, Luke following
close behind, I remembered. "Oh, my sorority is hosting an event on campus
tonight. Actually, I should be heading over there now. I told the girls that I
would come over and help as soon as I got back from my date." I wasn't
sure what kind of reaction this would elicit, but his following comment was
certainly not what I expected.

“So why did your date and so early?"

I said nothing, but continued up the stairs, and at
the landing took the faux U-turn toward my room. I stepped inside and flipped
on the light switch. He followed me. Before I knew it, he was pressed up close
next to me. He repeated his question. I wasn't about to tell him that I wasn't
particularly interested in Greg. I knew better than that. Instead, and without
breaking contact with his eyes, I lowered my hand and rubbed his crotch.

That was all it took. Flames erupted deep inside me,
and I could tell by his nearly instantaneous reaction that Luke felt much the
same. Before I knew it, we were both standing next to my bed and his hands were
unbuttoning my blouse while I did the same on his shirt. Quicker than I ever
would have realized, I was also divested of my bra, and as he leaned his head
down to settle his lips over one of my breasts, I worked at his pants. How
could I be so hot and ready for him when we had just had passionate, if hurried
sex behind the restaurant just a little while ago? I was amazed, but, with the
heat flaming through me, wasn't about to question.

In a matter of moments, he flung me onto my bed. This
was the first time I had really gotten a good look at him fully naked. He was
tanned, as if he either tanned often and without wearing anything, or he was
used to running around outside naked. The thought captivated me. He straddled
my hips with his own, his penis brushing up against my lower abdomen. He just
stared down at me for a moment, and then I couldn't help but glance from his
engorged penis back up to his face, which now wore a wicked grin.

Suddenly, I felt incredibly naughty. I slithered down
between his legs until I could catch the tip of his penis in my mouth. He
gasped in surprise, but said nothing, merely smiled as I took him, circled my
tongue around his head, and then reached my hands up to cup his balls. He
groaned softly, and for the first time, I felt an incredible surge of sexual
power. Yes, I had taken charge behind the restaurant, but not to the point
where I literally had him at my mercy. Now it was my turn and I took full
advantage.

Before long I was burning inside, wanting him to fill
me. His fingers played with my breasts, all he could really reach of me at the
moment. Then, with a growl of impatience, he placed his hands beneath my arms
and heaved me upward onto the bed. Without a moment’s hesitation, he nestled
himself between my thighs and dove inside me. I was already hot and slick,
ready for him, and within a matter of seconds, my hips were rocking in time
with his. Once again, our sex was hot, frantic, and passionate. I couldn't
believe that sex could be like this. I had never experienced anything like it.
Here I went again, twice in one night and I was just as excited, just as ready
as the first time.

We both approached orgasm at the same time, and then
he collapsed on top of me, both of us heaving for breath. Finally, he lifted
his head and grinned down at me. I looked up at him, wondering what he saw when
he looked at me. I didn't want him to think I was a slut, but at the same time,
how in the world could I deny my passion for him?

"Got anything to drink downstairs?"

He pulled out of me and rolled onto his side, leaning
on his elbow as he gazed at me. He was built really well, all solid muscle, not
an ounce of fat anywhere on him. While he wasn't as big as Greg muscle-wise, he
was a fine specimen of a man, all muscles and sinew and veins. "Yeah, I
think there's something in the fridge," I commented, distracted by the
sight of one of the tattoos on his left arm that wrapped around his bicep and
continued on up to his shoulder. It looked like something like a dragon or a
phoenix. Just as I was about to question him about it, he bounced off the bed
and headed for the door. I got a good look at his rock hard buttocks. He did
have a good butt, no doubt about it.

Grinning wickedly and knowing that the house was
empty, I followed him, not bothering to put on any clothes or wrap a sheet
around me. I felt perfectly comfortable being naked around Luke, and I followed
him down the stairs and into the kitchen. He turned on the kitchen light,
stepped up the fridge and pulled it open, making a face when he didn't see what
he was looking for. He glanced over his shoulder at me.