So. Long.: Bad Boy Next Door (53 page)

Fuck fuck fuck.

I throw up my hands and head back to finish my stinking job.
Who the fuck volunteers to be a janitor? Me, that’s who. And why? Because I
want Mo. I want more than just her body. What the fuck am I thinking?

A voice calls down the hall after me. “Danny, I have good
news.”

I let out a sigh and smile at the assistant director of the
facility. “Hey, Cindy. What’s up?”

“Your background check came through. You’re cleared to work with
the kids. So, if you want to go check it out tomorrow, you can.”

I nod. “Great. Thanks.”

Now we’re getting somewhere.

Mo leads me into a room that looks as though a paint store
exploded on the walls. Every color imaginable has been used. The upper half is
a mural of the Land of Oz, I guess—not sure. The lower half has hundreds of
handprints of all different colors on a black background.

The room bustles with volunteers, all dressed in deep
purple, collared shirts, and children…everywhere. They range in age from
wailing, non-mobile baby-blobs, to snot-nosed kiddos at all the stations around
the room.

One kid paints, giant brush smearing watercolors on a big
white paper at an easel; another has a tower of Lego blocks on a rug printed
with a road, while three tikes squabble over a yellow dump truck. More run,
play, and squeal.

I’m going to get a fucking migraine. I should have quit when
they handed me the toilet brush the other day. What the hell was I thinking? Mo
comes into my peripheral.

Oh yeah.
She’s
what I was thinking.

A frazzled woman shoves a diapered kid with a big yellowish
stain covering the lower back of its shirt into Mo’s arms. “Thank God you’re
here. Selena didn’t show up so we’re short-handed. Can you change Xavier? He
had a blow out.”

The smell hits me like a fifty pound bag of raw sewage and
curdles my stomach. I step away. “What do they feed that kid?”

Mo throws me a frown and says to the woman, “Rhonda, meet
Danny. Danny—Rhonda.”

I raise my fingers in a half wave. “Hi.”

She doesn’t even smile, just heads off to break up the Tonka
truck tussle.

Mo pushes the stink bomb against my chest. “Here, you can
take this one, since you’re so keen on volunteering.”

“What? No. I don’t know how to fix this.” The urge to flee
flashes through me. Scrubbing toilets would be better any day.

She grins over her shoulder. “Don’t worry; I’ll show you.
You’ll be a diaper changing pro in no time.”

I hold the smiling baby away from my body, balancing him
while trying not to get my hands covered in kid shit. “This isn’t what I
thought we’d be doing.”

At one of the tables with stacks of diapers along the back
wall, Mo shakes her head as she takes Xavier and lays him on the plastic mat.

“Then leave; I didn’t think you really wanted to be here
anyway.”

The look of disappointment on her face catches hold of
something in my chest. I snatch the diaper out of her hand and grab the nearest
container of baby powder. “No. I’m here. I told you I’d help. Show me what to
do. How hard can this be?”

By the end of the four hour shift, Danny’s designer shirt is
speckled with no-telling-what, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. His long hair
is tied back with a pink ribbon little Caitlyn fixed him up with while he sat
on the floor, building Lego castles with three-year-old Kelvin.

And he’s smiling—like happy smiling. No sneer. No grumbling
or grumpy face. Just a contented grin, his green eyes shining unlike anything
I’ve ever seen on him.

I catch his attention and wave him over. He hops up and pats
Xavier on the head, leaving him to knock the wooden blocks over one more time.
“You stay here, buddy. Be right back.”

“Hey, I’m headed home. Thanks for helping out, it worked out
great since we were short-handed.”

“Yeah, sure thing. I’m gonna stick around a bit. But I’ll
see you
later
.” He infuses his last word with meaning that sets my pulse
racing straight to my pussy.

I ignore the throb between my legs. “We’ll see.”

He takes my hands and pulls me close, kisses me on the
cheek, and whispers, “We
will
see.
Later
never came the other
day. Today? I’ll be over after dark.”

* * *

True to his word, there’s a knock just after sunset. My
heart rate ratchets up, but I take a couple of deep breaths on my way to the
door. I fully planned to turn him away when he got here, especially when I
think of that girl and him against the wall at the shelter yesterday. But as I
lay my hand on the knob, all I can think of is Danny laying
his
hands on
my body.

Damned wild oats.

I open the door. He’s barefoot, wearing tattered jeans and a
tank.

Hands in his pockets, he looks up from under those too-thick
lashes and grins. “It’s
later
.”

Before I can loosen my tongue and get a word out, he’s
through the door. Palms on my ass and mouth on mine, he backs me into the
bedroom.

I’m lost.

I’ve been lost to Danny for six glorious, hot and sexy
weeks. I try to get school work done in the mornings. We volunteer during the
afternoon. Then, come nightfall, he’s in my bed, and we’re going at it like
rabbits. Only, I don’t imagine rabbits have this much fun.

When he takes me, he does it hard with just the right amount
of rough. After we finish, I roll away from him and go into the bathroom. He
leaves while I clean up. I like it this way. Less clingy. Less dangerous.
Because Danny is definitely dangerous.

I let the shower heat and run a brush through my hair. My
reflection in the mirror tells the story. Flushed and smiling, lips swollen
from his kisses, breasts missing his touch even though it’s been less than five
minutes since his mouth was on them. I let out a shaky breath and roll my eyes.

This is silly. Just get on with it; wash him off and change
the sheets. His scent is too comforting to sleep with. My linens are going to
wear out if this continues.

I can’t let myself feel the things trying to bulldoze into
my heart.

I just can’t.

But I’m not sure I can do without him either. Not now.

After my shower, I wrap in a towel.

Danny sits propped against my pillows, ankles crossed, hands
behind his head. “Hey, beautiful.”

I stop in the doorway. “Why are you still here?”

He grins. “For weeks, all I do when I go back to my bed is
dream of being in
yours
. Maybe if I stay, I can dream about something
else for a change.”

I pull a tank top from my dresser, shaking my head. “You
need to go home.”

He’s off the bed with his arms around me before I close the
drawer.

His hands dive into the opening of the towel, letting it
slip to the floor. “Why? You worried about Mom and Dad finding out I’ve been
here? Don’t. I stay out all the time. They won’t even notice.”

He smoothes his palms over my ass and pulls me to his naked
body. His cock pushes hard against my bare belly while his lips leave a trail
of kisses to the hollow of my neck.

He picks me up and sets me on the dresser. The marble top is
cold under my butt.

“I’ll leave if you really want me to.” He slides a finger
into my already wet slit. “But I don’t think you do.”

He pushes his thumb against my clit as he pumps his fingers
inside me. I spread my legs, bracing myself, hands on the back edge of the
dresser. His mouth finds my pink tipped breasts and, again, I’m lost.

As he pleasures me, a small voice in the recesses of my mind
laughs at the idea that I can keep him at arm’s length when he’s so close to
me. Of course, I can’t hold him at a distance—he’s Danny.

The same Danny I’ve crushed on since I was twelve.

TEN

Morning sex is the best—something I never knew until Mo.

I’d never stayed with a girl over-night until three nights
ago. Hell, I’ve hardly spent more than a few hours with any girl. Mo was right
when she said I don’t do relationships. I just do the ladies and leave. They
don’t seem to mind, and it isn’t like I’m not up front about what I’m there
for—what I’m willing to give.

Now, I’m willing to give it all. To Mo. Whatever she wants.

Funny thing is, she’s the one pushing me out of bed every
morning before daybreak.

Quietly closing the back door, I smile. At least she’s been
letting me stay the night.

I round the corner into the living room. Dad’s in his
recliner, coffee in hand.

Well, there goes my good mood.

His dark hair sticks up in all directions like he’s been
running his fingers through it. “Son.”

“Dad.” I nod.

I don’t slow down on my way to the back stairs, until he
grabs my arm and swings me around.

“We need to talk.”

Fuck. “About?”

“I ask one simple thing of you and you can’t even do that.
Why Mona Lisa? With all the other girls you have, why did you go after her?”

My blood heats, in a bad way. “I’m tired of playing by your
rules. You can shove them up your sanctimonious ass.”

“My rules are set to protect this family and the ministry.
It’s bad enough the entire world knows how morally corrupt my son is, but to
sleep with someone under my protection? You’ve gone too far, Danny.”

“What if we didn’t screw?”

“There’s no question of that, and you know it. I saw—” His
hand flies up to cover his mouth. He pushes his fingers over his face and
through his hair.

“Fuck you, Dad, and whatever you saw. I’ll move out if you
want. Go ahead, take my trust. You’ve always wanted it anyway, you greedy
bastard. But touch Rachel’s—or Mo’s, and you’re the one who’s
morally
corrupt
.”

I yank out of his grasp and jog upstairs, chest heaving with
fury. I’d like to knock the shit out of that man.

Sometimes I fantasize that Rach and I were adopted. But we
have his fucking nose. Thank God that’s all I got. I’d much rather look like my
mom’s dad. He was a good man. I can’t believe he didn’t stop Mom from marrying
that jackass who ended up being my father.

I pull a duffel bag from the top of my closet and fill it
with essentials. How the hell can he
know
we fucked? I mean, what if I
was just hanging out and fell asleep on her couch? I didn’t, but he can’t know
that for sure. Can he? He
saw
?

What
did he see?

How
did he see?

As I tromp down the stairs the little motion detector poised
overhead, in the upper corner, catches my eye. Shit. Security. But, does the
guest house have cameras inside? I’ve never noticed any. Then again, we don’t
even have cameras inside our house. Just the ones at the gate as far as I know.

Damn.

* * *

I sneak out the back door and keep to the sides of the yard,
making my way toward Mo’s. She left a few minutes ago, so I let myself into the
bungalow. I check the place for alarm equipment.

Nothing in the living room or kitchen. No sign of anything
in the bedroom.

How the fuck did he
see
something?

Maybe he’s just guessing. I drop onto the bed, throwing
myself backward, propping my head on my hands.

The AC kicks on and cool air washes over my face. Something
behind the vent draws my attention. It shines.

Pulling out Mo’s desk chair, I stand on it and peer into the
vent. My hair blows into my eyes, making it hard to see.

With a hot coal sinking into my stomach, I retrieve a butter
knife from the kitchen. I pull the vent cover off. The scalding nugget burns
through to my gut, sparking a fire there. I grab the small electronic device
and yank it from the bracket securing it to the air duct.

A hidden camera?

What the fuck?

* * *

I storm into the house. The backdoor bangs the wall as I go.
With two handfuls of cameras, wires, and a bizarre Mexican doll held out in
front of me, I burst through the dickhead’s office doors. I throw one handful
of the shit at him.

He yanks his hands up to protect his face.

Standing, he lets the wires, lenses, and other pieces fall
to his desk and onto the floor. “What are you doing?”

Using my empty arm, I swipe it across his fucking desk. A
pile of his shit clatters onto the carpet. My chest heaves with my anger.

I drop the second half of the camera equipment into the
empty space. “I’m returning your shit to you. I’ll be staying with Mo from now
on; she won’t need your
protection
.”

He holds his hands out as though to calm me. “Danny, just
wait a minute.”

My rage funnels into my fists as I scramble over the desk,
knocking his laptop and the rest of his papers to the floor.

I grab his throat and slam him into the wall. “No.
You
wait a minute, you fucking perv. You want to protect this family? Your
ministry? I suggest you back the fuck off me and stay away from Mo. You don’t
even fucking look at her, or speak to her. And whatever video you have, give it
to me—now. Or I’ll take this to the press. They’ll have a feeding frenzy with
this shit.”

Dad claws at my wrists, his voice raspy. “Let me explain.”

“Hidden cameras pretty much tell it all. I always knew you
were fucked in the head. Now I have proof. If it weren’t for Mom being so
fragile, I’d expose your perverted, old ass right now.”

He drops his hands, his expression falling. “Yes. Your mom
would be devastated.”

I pull him to me, yelling into his face. “You bet your ass
she would. As would Rachel, and I can’t even
imagine
what this would do
to Mo.”

I shove him again. The back of his head smacks the wall.

I grit my teeth. “You better not touch our trusts either,
because if I think even a dollar is missing, I’ll bust this thing wide ass
open.”

“No. No need to do that. Your money’s safe. Just, let’s keep
this between us. It could ruin me.”

I let go of him and back up. My hands shake with all the
unused anger still flowing through my body. “I’m not keeping this to myself for
you.
You
I couldn’t give a shit less about, but I won’t see Mom have
another break down because of some stupid crap like this. Or have Mo feel
violated. Not unless I have to. But don’t push me; I’ve got no patience for
you, old man.”

He nods, rubbing the red marks over his Adam’s apple. “All
right. Calm down.”

“Not until I’ve got every bit of footage you have of Mo.
Every single frame.”

* * *

My fists tighten as the monitor flickers with images that
date back to when Mo moved into the guest house. Fucker’s been watching her all
this time. Keeping tabs. Seeing every change of clothes, shower, and study
session.

She thinks she lives in privacy, but she’s had none.

My stomach sours even more as I race to Rachel’s room. If
that perv’s done this to his own fucking daughter, I swear, I’ll—shit, I’ll go
to jail.

Leaping onto Rach’s bed, I check behind the vent. The breath
I’ve been holding whooshes out. No cameras. Just as a precaution, I check all
the other potential hiding spots in her room. The eyes of all her stuffed
animals for starters.

Thank God, he hasn’t gone there, because I’d have to kill
him.

Hell, I want to rip his fucking head off now. But, for the
love of Mom and Rachel, I won’t. Besides, if Mo finds out what a dirt bag my
father is, there’s no telling what she’ll do. She might separate herself from
my family completely.

From me.

I can’t lose her just because my dad’s a perverted asshole.

I brush the sweat from my brow as I push open the door to
the guest house with my hip. The cool air is welcome after the heat of the
afternoon. Even with the AC blowing right on my face in the car, I wasn’t
cooling off. I got so warm it made my stomach turn. Something must be wrong
with the AC. Or maybe I’m dehydrated.

Dropping my bag on the coffee table I head into the bedroom.

What the hell?

There’s a giant pile of clothes on the bed. Not
my
clothes.

I pick up a pair of black boxer briefs. What does he think
he’s doing?

“Oh, good; you’re home.” My thoughts materialize behind me.

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Why is your stuff all over
my bed?”

“
Our
bed. I’m moving in.”

I shake my head, sending his words rattling round in my
skull. “Come again?”

“Aw, c’mon, Mo. I’ve been staying the night anyway. I want
to be with you all the time.”

“No. Not happening.”

He cocks his head, his brow creased. “Why not? Don’t you
want to be with me?”

“I’m not ready for this. It’s too soon. And this…whatever it
is, well—it’s not likely to last. So, let’s keep it as clean as possible.
Besides, what would your parents say? Your moving in is a catastrophe waiting
to happen. So, no.”

Danny takes two steps, his body colliding with mine as he
walks me backward to the edge of the bed. His hands slide along my jaws, his
fingers delving into the hair behind my ears. His lips brush mine. Once. Twice.
The third time his tongue slips along the seam between them.

His eyes bore into mine. “What are you scared of, Mo? Don’t
want to get too close? Afraid you’ll fall for me? Just let go. Enjoy the rush.
I sure as hell have.”

I grab his wrists, hanging on for dear life as he takes
possession of my mouth. My mind.

My heart—its thrashing won’t let my lungs take in any air.

His words morph and magnify in my brain as I push him away,
gasping and holding my stomach, which has decided to take the nausea from
earlier to the next level.

I slap my hand over my mouth and run for the bathroom.

* * *

I rinse with cool water, avoiding Danny’s gaze in the
mirror. Bracing myself on the counter, elbows locked, head down, I let the
water drip off my face into the sink. “Go away, Danny. I don’t feel so great. I
must’ve gotten a bug from one of the kids at the center.”

He snatches a towel off the bar on the wall. “Here.”

“Please. Can we just discuss this later? Take your stuff to
your house.” Pushing past him, I crawl onto the couch, folding into a ball,
arms crossed over my rolling stomach.

He goes into the kitchen and comes back with a glass. “Want
some water?”

I shake my head, breathing through another strong wave of
nausea.

* * *

The nausea went away after an hour or so.

Danny did not.

Now, curled in his arms, counting his breaths against my
back, I smile. I won’t tell him, but I’m glad he didn’t run off when I tried to
shoo him away. And he even stuck around while I puked up my guts into the
toilet.

Maybe there’s hope for him after all. Probably no hope with
me, but he might eventually make someone a decent boyfriend.