Page 17 of Bad Boy Done Wrong
Chapter Six
Zach walked Carrie to his pickup truck, fully aware he was being accommodating, which was not a bad-boy thing to do. What he should’ve said was, “Babe, get in my bed and spread your legs, or get out.” But he’d felt her nervousness, seen a flash of true fear in those baby blues, and he couldn’t do it. He knew she had no reason to be afraid of him, but she didn’t know that. Not yet. That he was committed to her achieving the best possible experience with her wish list was only a reflection of his true goal—keeping her safe from random strangers. Not because he had a soft spot for her.
They got to his truck in the parking lot behind the apartment complex and he purposely didn’t open the passenger door and help her in like he normally would. Too gentlemanly. Instead he pinned her against the side of the truck and kissed her. Not gently. Then while she was still standing there, breathing hard, eyes glazed with lust, he swaggered over to the driver’s side.
Yeah, he was disappointed about not tying her up. It was the one thing on her list he was psyched about. What did it say about him that he loved to dominate in that way? Nothing significant, he decided, climbing into his truck and starting it. All within the realm of normal male behavior, given the invitation to do so. Hell, if there weren’t some aggression in the male of the species, the population would have dwindled long ago, everyone sitting around chatting instead of getting down to business. He was tuned into the primal, thanks to his academic background, and he embraced it.
He checked that her seatbelt was on and then pulled onto the main road, heading for the park where he’d spent plenty of Saturday afternoons playing basketball with the guys and plenty of high school nights up on the ridge making out with a girl. This “Sunday drive is sometimes bumpy” would go further, obviously Carrie wanted to give car sex a try. Easy enough.
“Where’re we going?” she asked, sounding considerably calmer than earlier.
“Park.”
“So you really figured out everything on my list?”
“Yeah.”
“How do I know you figured out everything correctly?”
“You’ll have to find out—” he paused long enough to keep her on edge “—thehardway.”
She giggled nervously, which told him he’d pulled off the attitude. “Oh.”
The park was a short drive, technically closed now past eight p.m., but there were no gates preventing entry. He didn’t anticipate any company either since it was a Monday night. Carrie sat up straighter and peered around at the mostly dark park. Just a few streetlights on the main road. He drove past the basketball courts, the playground, baseball fields, and hooked a right, climbing up to the ridge, where he parked on the gravel, facing the overlook.
He turned off the truck and listened. Dead silence. Just them and the night sounds—cicadas were carrying on with their mating calls. He turned and looked all around. They were alone.
“C’mere,” he ordered. “Straddle my lap.”
She took off her seatbelt and tried, but her dress seemed to halt her progress and she bounced back into her seat. “My dress is a little too tight.”
“No such thing,” he said, yanking her dress up to her waist and then guiding her over into position. He stifled a groan as she cradled his cock through damp panties. She smelled like vanilla and sex and he’d been ready for this moment since she’d stepped into his apartment in a tight little black dress and high heels that made her hips sway and sweet ass tilt back for his greedy hands. He told himself to go slow. Each experience was new for Carrie. Anyone could fuck hard and fast. He wanted to make it good for her.
He slid a hand to the nape of her neck, under her soft hair. He was about to slowly pull her in for a kiss when she beat him to it, slamming against his mouth. Jesus. She kissed him roughly, urgently, eagerly, her fingers tunneling through his hair. He thrust his tongue inside, loving the taste of her, sweet and sexy. She sucked his tongue gently and he lost control. Need like he’d never felt before spiked through him. He gripped her hair with one hand, plundering her mouth, his other hand gripping her ass. She made needy little mewls into his mouth. He gave the side of her panties a tug.
She tore her mouth from his. “Don’t rip them. They’re my favorite.”
“Next time don’t wear any.”
Her mouth slammed against his, her tongue darting inside. He held her by the jaw, taking over the kiss, his cock throbbing painfully against the confines of his jeans. He grabbed her hips with both hands, trying to lift her, desperate to get himself free and buried deep inside her, but she was clinging to him, her legs squeezing the sides of his. He gave up, instead working his fingers under the side of her panties and thrusting inside.
She threw back her head. “Yes!”
Oh, God. Hang on, hang on, make it good for her.He sucked on the cord of her neck and gave her another finger, angling the way he knew would make her crazed. She got real noisy then. He let her ride for a while, getting more and more turned on by her throaty cries, probably one thrust was all it would take to get him off.
“Now, now,” she said. “Inside me.” She leaned back and fumbled with the button on his jeans.
“I got it.”
A hard rap sounded on the driver’s side window, making him jump and Carrie yelp. Fuck. A flashlight shone in his eyes, probably a cop. He quickly shifted Carrie back to her seat, where she wiggled down her dress.
“Open the door,” a male voice ordered. “Police.”
“Omigod,” Carrie whispered.
He opened the driver’s side door and the flashlight shone on Carrie’s face. She probably couldn’t see anything but the glare of white light. “You okay, ma’am?” The much softer tone with a hint of a smirk told him who he was dealing with—Ethan. His honorary brother and pain-in-the-ass cop friend.
“Yes, Officer,” Carrie replied. She was probably too startled to put it together yet. Ethan did sound very official.
