Danger! Bad Boy Read online

  Perhaps my one teensy regret was blurting out that I loved him. The strong emotions I had towards him couldn’t be anything but love. They were different than the indulgent and protective love I had for my little brother and more than the affection and friendship I shared with Jared.

  I didn’t regret loving Caleb, but with his history and personality there was a need for caution. Even if he loved me back, he was bound to get scared easily. Our relationship was already unexplored territory for him and I was afraid of making him feel tied down. At this point, his ability to commit only went so far. A slow progression into deeper feelings was needed. Caleb was emotionally a virgin. For all the sleeping around he’d done, he’d never experienced love.

  Imagining him saying those three words had me thinking giddy thoughts. I loved him so much. Never had I imagined feeling this way. You couldn’t truly imagine what you hadn’t experienced.

  Caleb tried so hard to be a good boyfriend, despite not having a romantic bone in his body. Where it really mattered, he was everything a boyfriend should be; protective, strong, caring and considerate. Therefore, I could do without the romance.

  It didn’t bother me that he was sort of a perv and said whatever naughty thoughts came to mind. I’d rather not be with a guy who tried to cover it up with pretty words. I wanted him to be who he really was, not what he imagined he should be for me. I loved my bad boy just the way he was.

  Speaking of bad boy. . . .

  I gently lifted his arm off my chest and sat up. Twisting a little and holding the sheet over my breasts, I stealthily dragged the sheet down Caleb’s torso. At the point where it covered only his crotch, I stopped uncovering him.

  There was a cursive word tattooed on his lower abdomen. The word “hello” was stylized in lowercase black cursive letters.

  Why the hell would he have the word “hello” tattooed down there?

  “Caleb!” I nudged him impatiently on the shoulder.

  “Huh?” was his groggy reply.

  “Wake up!”

  “No.” he refused, rolling over onto his stomach.

  I pushed harder against his arm. “Why the do you have hello tattooed right above your crotch?”

  That got his attention. Flipping to his side and dragging one hand over his eyes, he asked in a harassed voice, “Gianna, do we have to do this so early in the morning?”

  “I want to know,” I insisted stubbornly. “And it’s not that early.”

  Raised up on one elbow now, he gave me a look, like the answer was obvious and I was too dense to grasp it. “Can’t you guess?”

  “No,” I said, thinking hard and getting annoyed.

  He sighed dramatically. “Oh, Gianna, you still think like a virgin.”

  I evaded his attempt to gather me in his arms. “Don’t mock me, Caleb.”

  He stopped trying to wrap his arms around me, his expression wary. “I’m not going to apologize for who I was before I met you, Gianna.”

  Glaring at him for implying I’d be so stupid, I was becoming beyond annoyed. “I’m not asking you to. I just want to know what the freaking tattoo means.”

  “Think real hard. Who’s likely to see the tattoo and in what position would she be in?”

  It clicked.

  My mouth dropped open in shock. “That’s really bad, Caleb.”

  The grimace on his face and the way his body stiffened let me know he was anticipating an argument. “You know who I was before I met you.”

  “A freaking sex addict? How many girls have gotten on their knees to see that tattoo?”

  He rubbed his jaw in a nervous gesture. “Not that many. I’ve only had it for six months.”

  I laughed humorlessly, wishing this were a nightmare. “I don’t even know what to think. I mean, I know what you were like. I just didn’t expect something in my face like this!” I pointed down to where the offensive tattoo was covered by the sheet once again. First time in my life I’d been offended by the word “hello.”

  “It’s not that big of a deal, Gianna. It’s just a tattoo.”

  “It is a big deal, Caleb, and it pisses me off that you’re just blowing it off as me being the irrational girlfriend!”

  “Hey, you said it. . . .”

  Getting off the bed, I turned to face him. “You shouldn’t have got that dumbass tattoo!”

  His face hardened and he slid off the bed, grabbing his underwear from the floor to put them on in jerky movements. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten it if girls didn’t enjoy sucking me so much, moaning and panting for it.”

  Pain and anger sliced through me. To keep from bursting into tears, I went with the anger. “You asshole! How would you like it if I had a similar tattoo, but instead it said Welcome All?”

  Instead of answering, Caleb grabbed a bottle of water off the nightstand and took a swig. I could have sworn his lip was twitching. If he laughed I’d throw something at him.

  My misery must have seeped through my angry expression. He came around the bed, his face soft, forcing me into his arms. “I’m sorry, princess.”

  “I hate it,” I whispered weakly, feeling a hurt I couldn’t help no matter how my brain told me to be rational about it.

  “I know,” he responded on a squeeze.

  “I may never go down on you,” I warned him.

  Another squeeze. “Now that’s just crazy talk.”

  “It’s not funny, Caleb. I really wish you hadn’t gotten it. It’s going to be a constant reminder of every girl that came before me.”

  He ran soothing kisses over my forehead, across my cheek. “None of them mattered. You’re all that matters, Gianna.”

  Feeling slightly better, I laid my head against his shoulder. “That’s nice to hear.” Not being able to help myself, I hid a smile and said, “I’d feel a lot better about it if you changed it to say, ‘hello, Gianna’ instead.”

  His chest vibrated against me. “What would that earn me?”

  Without hesitation, I answered, “Oral gratitude.”

  “Tempting,” he teased. “How about if I just write it in with permanent marker?”

  “No oral gratitude.”

  “I guess I’ll just have to make do, then.” He began tugging at the sheet wrapped about me.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. “Again, Caleb? Can’t I at least take a shower first?”

  “No shower.” With a yank, he ripped the sheet away.

  “You really are a sex addict!” I said in a scandalized voice, not able to hold back the grin.

  “Am not!” He pretended to be offended. I imagined his next tattoo saying “Sex Addict Extraordinaire” and inwardly cringed.

  He smiled wickedly. “I’m a Gianna addict.”

  “You better say that,” I ordered sternly.

  He pulled me down on to the bed. “Have mercy and feed my addiction.”

  He was ridiculous and exasperating, but I wouldn’t change one thing about him. Except for that damn tattoo.

  Like I was his own personal rag doll, Caleb situated my legs so I was on his lap straddling him. Sitting upright and satisfied with his work, he checked with one hand for my readiness while giving my nipples attention with his mouth. I circled his neck with my arms, urging him on.

  I was so ready for him.

  He yanked his underwear out of the way and pushed up inside of me. Leaning back some, I watched his handsome face contort in ecstasy as he groaned, closing his eyes as he slid in. As they opened to meet my avid gaze, he brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers. His smile was tender before his mouth was on mine. Did he even realize how he looked at me sometimes? His tongue stroking mine had me writhing on his lap.

  With a restless sound, he gripped my hips, pumping up into me. Catching on to the rhythm he liked, I began to take over, moving up and down with him eagerly. It was so good. It built up to a peak and exploded throughout my body. My climax seemed to trigger his own. As he groaned into my breasts, a wave of warmth flowed through me. I rested my he
ad against his. “Caleb, I love you.”

  His response was, “Shower time.”

  Still inside me, he stood up with his hands under my thighs. Carrying me into the bathroom, he set my feet down on the cool tile. I shivered as he turned away to start the shower.

  He hadn’t met my eyes since right before he climaxed.

  The intense look on his face when he finally turned around startled me. If it was because of what I said, he could at least say what he was thinking. If he was irritated by my words, I didn’t care. Well, maybe I did. But I wasn’t going to hold back the emotion just because he did.

  I wasn’t going to pretend not to be in love with him just because he was fooling himself into believing he wasn’t in love with me. Instinct told me what it was between us. It was in the way he looked at me when he wasn’t convincing himself otherwise. His denial was both aggravating and oddly cute.

  Our first shower together was subdued and I could only imagine the playful experience it would’ve been had I not freaked him out. Whatever his thoughts, he was thinking them hard. Here I was, naked and wet, and he wasn’t even perving on me.

  My mood wasn’t helped by the fact that I was starving. How many times did a girl have to put out before she got breakfast?

  Deciding to take matters into my own hands, I gave Caleb a dirty look that didn’t seem to penetrate and stepped out of the shower. Screw him, his awful tattoo and his brooding. Wrapping a towel around my body, I found a pair of sweats and a tank top in his bag. Hotel room floors grossed me out, so I pulled on socks before going to the room’s phone.

  With the guest directory binder in my lap, I sat down on the edge of the bed. Hearing Caleb leave the bathroom, I ignored him as he sat on the bed next to me. Without looking, I sensed he was still thinking too hard. Calling room service, I handed him the binder as I waited for someone to pick up.

  After ordering waffles and orange juice, I looked to Caleb. He wore only a towel around his waist. He hadn’t dried off and I averted my eyes from the water droplets on his chest. I didn’t want to think happy thoughts about him.

  “Same,” he said with an uncomfortable expression on his face. I knew it wasn’t the prospect of eating waffles bothering him.

  I passed along the info to the woman on the other end of the phone and got an estimate on the wait time.

  Not wanting to deal with it, but not willing to go through the anxiety of avoiding the subject, I asked breezily, “What has you looking so serious?”

  “Us,” he answered, moving to his bag to pull out clothes. The expression I aimed for was supposed to convey bewilderment, but it faltered. Caleb sighed unhappily, coming back to sit next to me and taking one of my hands in both of his. He brushed his thumb back and forth against my knuckles.

  “Gianna, I think we need to talk about what you said,” he paused before adding, “Last night and this morning.” His authoritative tone grated on my nerves.

  “Why exactly do we need to discuss it?” This wasn’t easy for me and I wasn’t going to make it any easier for him.

  His confidence visibly wavered as he ran a hand over his wet hair. “I care a lot about you. I just don’t think we should rush into all that other stuff.”

  “All what other stuff?”

  Caleb threw a hand in the air in agitation. “You know, all that love stuff.”

  “All that love stuff,” I repeated tonelessly, wanting to simultaneously laugh and cry.

  “Yes,” he rushed to say with a hint of relief, as if I’d somehow agreed. “It ruins relationships when people get all intense like that. Then people start to form unrealistic expectations and feelings get hurt. I mean, we’re having fun, right?”

  “Tons,” I mocked him.

  He gave me a grim look. “We’ve been good together. We have fun. Don’t you think it’d be stupid to mess with that?”

  “Obviously you do,” I snapped, pulling my hand out of his clasp and folding my arms over my chest defensively. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything you’re not ready for, Caleb.”

  The situation oozed with irony. I was a virgin up until last night and fearlessly transitioned into a sexual relationship with him. He was a player too terrified of love to admit to that aspect of our relationship.

  I wasn’t imagining it, it was there. He was just being too stubborn to face up to it.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Gianna,” he assured me sincerely. At least there was that. “Like I said, I care a lot about you. I don’t want any other girls. I’m just not into the whole love thing.”

  Love stuff.

  Love thing.

  Who was he kidding?

  A person didn’t choose whether or not to love someone. Did he think I woke up one day and thought to myself, Wouldn’t it be so awesome to fall for my player stepbrother?

  When I didn’t respond, Caleb grabbed my hand again. “Gianna. . . .”

  This conversation was depressing. Even if I was the girl in this relationship, I didn’t want to be the girl in this relationship. I shuddered mentally at the thought of being whiny and clingy, always insecure and pushing for more.

  No way was I begging for his love.

  If he didn’t want my love, then fine. Let him have it his way for now. In the end, I knew what we had was special. Everything that brought us together, every moment we’d shared told me it was love.

  For a long time Caleb had been living his life with fun being his ultimate goal. The way I saw it, Caleb didn’t realize a relationship based on casual fun, exclusive or not, wasn’t going to make him happy. His possessiveness and the amount of time he chose to spend with me showed he was too involved for casual to work.

  He was trying to backtrack to the time we first got together. Heck, even before that.

  Perhaps he simply needed to be taught a lesson. He needed to learn what a relationship based solely on having fun meant.

  With him eyeing me with concern, I shrugged as if it didn’t matter either way. “Fine by me. I don’t love you, Caleb, and you don’t love me. We’ll just have . . . . fun.”

  What he needed to realize was that love didn’t exclude fun. In fact, I believed it could surpass it. My agreement didn’t seem to make him happy. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

  I jumped up at the knock on our door and told him over my shoulder, “You should like the sound of it, Caleb. After all, it was your idea.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “You never lose by loving. You always lose by holding back.”

  -Barbara de Angelis

  CALEB

  Talk about being a sex addict.

  After breakfast, I went back to sleep with Gianna, only to have her wake me up soon after by rubbing on a certain part of my anatomy.

  I was a victim to her sexual whims!

  With relief, I noticed our serious talk earlier hadn’t seemed to phaze her. She must agree with me that getting all intense in a relationship would only ruin it in the end. I knew she’d see things my way if I explained it. Now we could just have fun together. It made for a perfect relationship.

  If she hadn’t seen things my way, well, I didn’t know what my next step would’ve been.

  The thought of breaking things off with her was painful.

  No matter, things were settled.

  All guys should have the same talk with their girlfriends. It’d result in more happy couples.

  I was living the dream, having a sexfest in a Vegas hotel room with my sexy, funny, cool girlfriend.

  After I made Gianna come twice, I followed her. We ended up both taking another shower before getting dressed. Since we were planning on walking up and down the strip, we dressed casually, me in jeans and a t-shirt and her in shorts and a tank top. She put on a pair of jeweled sandals her toes looked adorable peeking out of.

  My god, I was turning soft. Not in my pants, never there when it came to Gianna, just in my mind. Thinking a girl’s toes were cute could be a slippery slope. Next thing, I’d be painting them for her.r />
  We walked around for a few hours, seeing the sights, letting Gianna choose where to explore. It was actually pretty boring in Vegas during the day. Unless you were gambling, all there was to do was eat or shop. I wasn’t about to test our fake ids on the casino floor. Instead, we headed over to Circus Circus to play games in the arcade area.

  We ate dinner at western-themed hotel restaurant then went back to our room to get ready for clubbing. Gianna looked hot in a silver skirt, black tank top and heels.

  We took a taxi to the Hard Rock Hotel. There was a club there called Body English I’d heard good things about.

  Holding Gianna’s hand in the back of the taxi, occasionally stealing a kiss, it suddenly hit me that I’d never been this happy. I had the coolest, most gorgeous girlfriend in the world and we had the perfect relationship. We were totally committed to each other, without the hassle of drama caused by complex emotions.

  Life was fantastic.

  When we got to the club, I decided there was no reason to watch how much I drank. I didn’t have to drive back to the hotel or get up early tomorrow. I’d drunk the occasional beer, but hadn’t been drunk in a long time. I wasn’t planning on getting smashed or anything, but I was in a celebratory mood.

  We danced and drank alternately for the first hour there. Then we met a group of college freshman from the University of Nevada, two girls and three guys. They seemed pretty chill and laid back, so we hung with them for the next hour or so, drinking, talking and having a good time. One of the guys, Brooks, was hilarious. I was pretty sure he was high on something, but could care less as long as he was making me laugh. If he offered any of it to Gianna, though, I’d have yanked her away from all of them.

  Everything was cool until I noticed one of the other guys, Levi, leaning forward in his seat and giving Gianna flirtatious looks. At one point, the look on his face said how badly he wanted to nail her. Not about to put up with him imagining screwing my girlfriend, but unwilling to ruin the group’s fun by punching him in the face, I settled for sending him killing glares until he backed down.

  Satisfied I wouldn’t have to kick the guy’s ass, getting us thrown out of the club, I relaxed back into my seat with my arm around Gianna. Tipsy, she seemed content to lean into my side and laugh about whatever with the girl said sitting next to her.