Bad Boy Rebels 1-3 (Bad Boy Rebels 1)

I crack an eye open and my skin flushes at the sight of him staring at me. Oh my heck, I think I just totally misread the situation! I’m such an idiot! “I’m sorry,” I sputter, completely mortified. “I thought…” I trail off as he puts a finger to my lips, shushing me.

He remains that way, with his finger on my lips, his eyes on me, but I get the feeling he’s listening for something. Then, without warning, he grabs my hips, yanks me against him, puts his lips to my neck, and starts sucking on my skin. My eyelashes flutter as my legs wobble and I nearly collapse to the floor. Benton’s grip on me tightens and stops me from falling.

“Just hang on for a little bit longer,” he whispers against my neck.

I have no clue what he’s talking about and honestly don’t care. My mind is too dazed, my head tipping back as I clutch onto him. I swear I hear him let out a low groan, but it’s really hard to say for sure since I’m panting so loudly. And my panting only grows louder as the sucking turns into soft nips, his teeth gently grazing my skin.

Oh my yumminess, this is even better than kissing.

“Well, I’m glad I’m that good.”

My eyes widen. “Did I say that aloud?”

With a soft chuckle, Benton leans back. “Yeah, you did. But don’t worry, I think it’s cute.” He winks at me, but the humor in his eyes fades as his phone buzzes from inside his pocket. He fishes it out, checks a message on the screen, and then sighs. “All right, we’re good.”

“Good for what?” I’m so confused, especially because my neck tickles in a really good way.

“To talk.” He glances at my neck, smiles, then nods for me to follow him as he returns to my bed.

I hesitate, eyeballing the bed and then him.

“Relax, Zhara, I don’t bite,” he says with a grin.

I instinctively cup the side of my neck.”

He chuckles. “Okay, maybe I do. But I promise I’ll go easy for a bit.” He winks at me again, but I don’t quite fully understand the meaning behind it.

Still, I make my way over to the bed and take a seat beside him, loathing how unsteady I feel inside, like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff.

“What do you want to talk about?” My wobbly voice reveals my nerves.

“About what happened the other night.” He blows out a breath, raking his fingers through his hair. “I know I said to meet up at my house tonight so we could talk about it, but I think I need to prepare you before you meet everyone.”

My head angles to the side in confusion. “Everyone?”

“My friends,” he clarifies, then his lips quirk. “You know, the Bad Boy Rebels.”

“Oh.” I’m still a little lost, though. “Prepare me for what? I thought you were just going to ask me for a favor.”

“It’s a pretty big favor, though. And I think it might be better if I ask you now, when it’s just you and me instead of when everyone is around.”

“You mean, when the other Bad Boy Rebels are around?”

He nods. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to say yes and while I like my friends, they have a way of making people feel intimidated, sometimes without meaning to.”

I get what he’s saying. All the times I saw the six of them around school, I had a hard time making eye contact—a lot of people did. “Yeah, I can see that.”

I don’t bother to mention that even without the rest of the Bad Boy Rebels here, I still feel a bit intimidated. Benton’s been nice and everything, but his eyes are intense and just looking at them makes my words get all jumbled on my lips.

He tugs his hand through his hair again, making the strands go askew. He seems nervous, which helps alleviate my nerves a tiny bit. But then his gaze welds to mine and once again, I’m standing on that cliff ledge.

“You remember Tank and Ralpho, right?” he asks cautiously.

I nod. “Yeah, but you never fully explained who they are.”

He fiddles with the clasps on one of the leather bands on his wrists. “I sort of work with them.”

“Really? Doing what?”

He hesitates, studying me intensely. “Smuggling drugs.”

“What?” I start to stand, completely freaking out.

He puts a hand on my knee, holding me down. “Calm down, that came out wrong.”

“You mean, you don’t smuggle drugs?” Wariness laces my tone.

He bobs his head from side to side, wavering. “I do, but it’s more of an act.”

Once again, I’m dropped into Confusion Land. “I’m not really sure what you’re saying.”

He sighs tiredly, rubbing his free hand across his forehead. “I guess there’s no easy way to say this other than to just say it.” He looks me straight in the eye. “I work for a secret undercover program, and I’m currently working undercover to bring down one of the biggest drug busts in the state—all of the Bad Boy Rebels are. Tank and Ralpho work for a drug lord and now they think you’re our girlfriend and we can’t tell them otherwise or else our cover could be blown. So, I’m here to ask—no, beg—you to continue working undercover as our girlfriend.”

I blink and blink again, trying to figure out what to say. But no matter how much time I give myself, the only words that leave my lips are, “Holy shit.”

Tricks

I rarely swear aloud and Benton must know that because his brows raise to his hairline in surprise.

“S-sorry,” I stammer an apology. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

He stares at me in disbelief. “Did you seriously just apologize for swearing?”

My face radiates with heat. “I’m sorry. It just sort of slipped out.”

He smashes his lips together, smothering a laugh. “And now you just apologized for apologizing for swearing.” He shakes his head, his eyes glittering with laughter. “Man, we’re going to have our hands full.” His mouth suddenly sinks to a frown. “That is, if you say yes.”

Through my embarrassment, I fleetingly forgot that he asked me for a favor. A huge, crazy, completely insane favor. I mean, can you imagine me trying to pretend to be the girlfriend to six hot guys? And what does that even entail? Will people think I’m actually dating all of them at once and that we’re all just one big happy family? Or will I be dating and cheating on all of them? Or will I… Well, I can’t think of any other scenarios.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Benton says, assessing me closely.

Nerves bubble inside me, either from the situation or his gaze—it’s hard to tell for sure. “I’m thi

nking I’m confused.”

He nods, his expression remaining guarded. “That’s understandable. I just threw a lot of heavy shit on you.” He pauses, his gaze never wavering from mine. “Maybe if you tell me exactly what you’re confused about, I can help clear up some of the confusion. That is, unless you want to kick me out of your house.” He doesn’t seem too thrilled about the idea. “Which I completely understand. But I’m hoping you don’t, because I really need your help.” He gives me a pleading look, the same one he gave me in the parking lot when I pretended to be his fake girlfriend.

And I’m quickly learning I’m a sucker for that look.

“You don’t need to leave.” I mull over what to say next. “I guess I just don’t understand exactly what you want me to do. I mean, when you say pretend to be all your girlfriends, do you mean that in the sense that I’d have to pretend to be a skanky, cheating girlfriend? Or are we supposed to pretend to have those different dating beliefs where one girl can date multiple guys? And are the guys going to be dating other girls too?” I press my palm to my forehead as my mind spins with confused dizziness. “Because I really can’t see myself pretending to be in any of those positions.”

“Because it’s too weird?”

“Well, yeah… Or well, maybe.” I lower my hand from my head and look at him. “Honestly, I’m more worried about the lying part of the job. I’m not a very good liar. Plus, I don’t want to lie to my family or want them to think I’m dating six guys at the same time.”

“Your family wouldn’t have to know,” he assures me. “You’d only play the part while we were working undercover.”

My eyes pop wide. “You mean when you’re hanging around a bunch of drug lords?”

“Well, when you put it that way, I’m sure it doesn’t sound any better to someone like you.”

My jaw ticks. “Someone like me?”

He pulls a whoops face. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.” But he makes no effort to correct himself.

“So, you don’t think I can handle it.” My anger simmers underneath my skin, on the verge of boiling. “Why? Because I’m too good of a girl?”