Bad Things (Tristan & Danika 1)

She blinked at me, her mouth agape. Speechless. That was a first.

I leaned over and gripped her thigh. “How, Danika? Tell me how we’re supposed to forget any of that?”

“You—you…It was all casual for you, Tristan. It didn’t mean a thing.”

“I’ve had my mouth all over you, my hands…my teeth. And your cunt has squeezed my cock so tight that my vision went blurry. Am I supposed to forget that, too?”

“Tristan!”

“And you said you were in love with me. Do you really expect me to fucking forget that?” I got out of the car, slamming it shut. I was drenched by the hot rain before I’d even made it to the passenger door.

I wrenched it open, pulling a shocked Danika out into the rain with me.

I shut the door behind her, pressing her against it.

I kissed her. She turned her face away, and I nuzzled into her neck before coming back to her mouth. I pushed my tongue between her lips, needing to get inside of her any way that I could.

She moaned, gripping the front of my shirt. I felt the moment she gave in, and my hands gripped her ass, dragging her up, grinding my erection against her.

Her legs wrapped around me, her dress so short that it rode up to her hips with the motion.

I wrenched my mouth away, sliding it to her ear. My breath was panting out of me, so I was breathless when I spoke. “I’m going to fuck you hard on the hood of this car, in the pouring rain. And. You. Are. Not. Going. To. Forget. It.” I kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear between each roughly uttered word.

I felt her entire body tremble, and I shuddered against her.

I carried her to the front of the car.

I splayed her out, dragging her arms high above her head.

I straightened, keeping my hands on her knees, spreading them wide, and just looked at her.

Her dress had gone completely see-through, and it was more indecent than being outright naked. I loved it. I wouldn’t forget the sight for as long as I lived.

Her breasts heaved, the nipples hard and pink against the filmy white fabric. Trails of eye makeup ran down her pale cheek, her pitch black hair wet and messy, trailing into her face, and I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life.

I took my mouth to her, licking the rain off her skin, sucking at her through the soaking wet, paper-thin material of her white dress.

My hands got busy slipping off her tiny red thong, then unbuttoning my jeans.

I kissed my way between her legs, burying my face in her core, licking and sucking at her sex, the hot rain mixing with the taste of her, creating an intoxicating blend.

I didn’t come up for air until I was sure that she had lost her mind.

I jerked my cock out of my jeans, moving over her, pressing hard against her as I guided myself to her entrance.

“You gonna forget this?” I rasped into her ear as I worked myself in.

Her answer was a nearly unintelligible negative. I eased in and out, my pace slow as I closed my eyes and savored that perfect feeling of being inside of her.

She clenched around me like the tightest little fist and I lost my mind.

My smooth strokes grew into hard jack-knife thrusts, harder, harder.

My hands pushed her legs wide open, wider, and I pounded in and out, in and out, telling her just how beautiful she was, how perfect she felt, my mouth at her ear.

Her replies came in the form of whimpers and moans, and I thought that I’d missed that the most; the sound of the most controlled woman I’d ever met losing her shit.

“Let go, sweetheart,” I told her raggedly, so close to the edge. I reached down, finding her clit and rubbing it with the lightest touch, ramming hard. One contact so soft, the other nearly brutal in its roughness. “Come for me. I need you to. Give me everything you have, every ounce of that control, sweetheart.”

I felt her clenching me, the spasms that told me she was coming, and I rammed to the hilt and held, pouring into her. It felt like I left my body and came back into it, it was that intense.

I started to pull out, but she was so tight, squeezing at my base, so wet, the tight glide inside of her so fucking smooth, that I found myself pushing back in before I’d fully pulled out, hard like I hadn’t just emptied myself inside of her.

I bent down, sucking a nipple into my mouth as my hips circled into a rhythm that started out easy, but had my neck arching and turned into a full on hell bent fuck, my out of control need for her taking me over completely.

I made sure she came again before I sank deep, back bowed, and emptied myself inside of her. Again.

“I missed you,” I said into her ear. Maybe she’d believe me after that.

I shifted slowly out of her, shutting my eyes at the sweet pull of her on my cock. I helped her straighten her dress, which made her laugh, which made me laugh.

She ran her hands over her may as well be naked torso, smiling. “Am I all covered up?” she asked, pitching her voice loud over the still pounding rain.

“Get in the car, boo. If anyone else sees you like this, I may have to knock some heads together.”

I glanced around, relieved to see that we were the only car on the roof level. I hadn’t been in the right frame of mind to think to look before.

I handed her into the car, tucking myself back into my pants as I moved around to the driver seat.

She was digging into her tiny handbag as I started to drive.

“Where are we going?” she asked, as though she was surprised that we were leaving.

“I’m taking you home,” I told her. “You can’t walk around in that dress now.”

She sighed, as though I were being unreasonable. “Well, I need to text Frankie. It was rude to ditch her.”

“Frankie will be fine.”

“It was still rude. And your fault.”

“Yes. Just tell her that. My fault. Problem solved.”

She played on her phone for a solid five minutes while I drove. I knew it was five minutes because I timed it, watching the dash and getting more rigid by the second, as she completely ignored me.

Finally, I couldn’t stay quiet for another second. “We going to talk about what happened back there?”

I saw her stuff her phone into her clutch out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t see her expression, because my eyes stayed on the road, but I felt her glare. “Yes,” she said bitingly. “Let’s talk about that. You didn’t use a condom, and you know how I feel about that.”

That stunned me into silence, as I hadn’t even thought of it. I did know how she felt about it, and I’d been so out of my mind, so mindless with my need, that it hadn’t even occurred. I’d never done anything like that before.

I could remember the feel of her, skin on skin, how utterly divine it had felt, and still, even while I was inside of her, I hadn’t thought of the protection that I usually couldn’t do without.

“Fuck,” I said succinctly. “I’m sorry. I lost my mind. At least you’re on the pill.”

“At least. And it won’t be happening again.”

I felt my gut clench. “It won’t?”

“It won’t. No condom, no sex.”

My lungs punched out in a huge sigh of relief. I’d thought she was saying no sex in general. I had one condom in my wallet. It was something at least, but I’d need to go for more in a hurry. It was debatable, even after coming twice, if one would be enough to take us until morning. I had missed her.

I gripped a hand on her knee, rubbing. I was getting hard again, thoughts of the near future taking over the now.

“I need your mouth, sweetheart,” I told her quietly, meaning it.

“Excuse me?” she said, still full of that sass. Part of it was the fact that she was still rightfully pissed at me, and part of it was just her personality.

“You heard me. Suck my dick while I drive. I’ll make it up to you later. As many times as you want. I’ve been dreaming about having that mouth wrapped around my cock for weeks.” There was a definite plea in my voice, because I was desperate for the contact, desperate for her to perform a willing act on me just because I asked.

I was a little shocked and beyond relieved when she actually complied, shifting in her seat to grip me through my jeans. Her hot mouth moved to my ear, biting at the lobe as she unbuttoned, unzipped, and fisted me through my boxers.

I groaned as she jerked hard at me.

“Tell me again that you missed me,” she whispered.

“I missed you, boo. Everything about you.”

“Even my attitude?”

“’Specially that.”

I took one hand off the wheel, gripping her hair and moving her head down, as gently as I could manage.

“Suck me off, sweetheart. I need it fast. And now.”

I helped her pull me from my pants, lifting my hips off the seat to free myself.

Her hot breath puffed onto my tip as she gripped me hard at the base. I pushed her onto me with a hand gripped in her hair. I was in no mood for teasing.

I felt her knowing laugh around my cock and I jumped inside her mouth. Her head bobbed up and down as she started up a rhythm, her tongue busy, her grip firm.

“Harder. Suck me off hard,” I bit out, gripping her hair, jerking into her mouth, pushing far enough to feel her throat closing around me.

I was emptying into the back of her throat with a few short strokes, hand gripping hard into her hair.

She sucked me hard, wringing me dry, before she raised her head. Her hand still stroked me, with a lighter touch now, her nails scoring over my scrotum.

“I fucking love your mouth,” I told her.

“You love fucking my mouth,” she agreed, twisting the words.

I laughed, pulling her into my side, feeling a surge of such joy and happiness that she was even speaking to me. That joy seemed to be channeling itself into an urgent need to fuck her repeatedly. Luckily, she wasn’t complaining.

CHAPTER THIRTY

She was already checking her phone again as I started driving.

“Frankie upset that you left?” I asked.

“Hmm? Frankie? Oh no. This is something else.”

Just by the absent, slightly agitated tone of her voice, I knew who was texting her.

“Your ex,” I guessed, feeling suddenly less happy and more violent.

She sighed unhappily. “He just won’t get a clue. He thinks it’s cute to be persistent, but I’m so over his crap.”

I was pulling back over before she finished the first sentence. I grabbed her phone, ignoring her complaints, and started to read.

I was fuming almost instantly.

Daryl: I miss you. I’m at a party over at Dig’s house. Come see me baby.

This text was followed by an address, which I assumed was Dig’s house.

“What kind of a name is Dig?” I asked Danika, still scrolling through her texts. It was basically a variation of the same thing; I love you, I miss you, come see me. There were several a day, all from him, none sent. From what I could tell, Danika had only responded once, a few weeks ago, and that was to tell him to leave her alone.

“It’s a nickname, though I don’t even know his real name. The guy’s a loser. Even if we were still together, I would never go to a party at Dig’s house. All of his party’s just involve a bunch of skinny white boys smoking pot for days at a time.”