Page 26 of Bad Boy Done Wrong
Chapter Eight
Zach made his way to the bed and flopped down on the mattress after a round of shower sex that lasted so long the water ran cold. “Squeaky clean is best” had been fairly easy to interpret. Actually, her whole list had been easy to figure out once he’d understood the deeper meaning of what she really wanted. For him, it didn’t matter what they did as long as he didn’t have to hold back. She didn’t want unnaturally gentle. She wanted take charge. She wanted him. For the first time he got just as much pleasure giving pleasure as he did taking his own. Her responses brought him immense satisfaction as he watched her blissful states from wonder to awe to amazement. In those moments, sex became an almost spiritual thing. A new and awesome experience for him.
He glanced over at Carrie already in bed, staring at the ceiling with a look of pure feminine satisfaction. She frequently just lay there, quietly reliving the experience. She’d shared that with him the first time he’d been concerned at her long silent state. Most women liked to talk after.
She had an intensely sensual side, not much for conversation, which suited him perfectly. He was the same way. Mostly they texted in small doses, like from Carrie repeatedly:You home?
And him:Yup.
He always made sure he was home in time to hook up with her. He liked being her bad boy, liked her a lot, but he had no idea where to go from here. She’d gotten under his skin much faster than he normally let anyone in. His lone-wolf nature hadn’t deterred her. Not that they’d spent any time together in the traditional sense of dating with getting-to-know-you conversations, but he knew the important things. He knew what she felt like—soft satin. What she tasted like—vanilla and sexy woman. What she sounded like—sweet, caring, open. If things progressed further, he’d tell her about the professor thing. He was actually a little surprised it hadn’t come up already. Carrie never asked him about himself, only about cooking. She must not have asked around about him either. What did that mean? Was this just about sex for her? Because for him it wasn’t.
It had to be more. Every night, the moment she stepped into his apartment, she lit up at the sight of him, ran, and leaped into his arms. No one had ever lit up just at the sight of him. He replayed those nightly reunions in his mind when he was running or driving or supposed to be working on his book—bubbles of pure incandescent joy. Fleeting, maybe. Temporary. They were technically at the end of their agreement—he’d gone through her entire list, even stalling by adding some of his own stuff in between. His chest tightened.
He wasn’t ready to let her go.
He turned his head, watching her staring at the ceiling, her lips curved into a small smile. The tension in his chest eased a bit because he’d made her happy.
He hadn’t thought they could get through the list so quickly in only a week. Carrie worked the one to nine p.m. shift at the hospital and showed up at his place after, spending the night and staying late into the morning. He still slipped out to the sofa after she fell asleep. And she still hadn’t noticed. He was glad; his ex had hated that he was a solo sleeper. He supposed it was his lone-wolf nature because he’d never been able to sleep with someone cuddled up against him. Women tended to be cuddlers.
He stared at the ceiling and ran a hand through his damp hair, exhausted from his week. He got a workout both day and night. Usually when Carrie was busy at work, he sat at the computer, trying to come up with a better outline for his book. He couldn’t get past the first third. Even his title “Society Against State: Geopolitics Surrounding Indigenous Nations of Southeast Asia” sounded too academic. His work didn’t translate as easily as he’d hoped for a nonacademic audience. He’d stopped and started several times, yet it kept turning into PhD dissertation part two. His brain just wouldn’t bend in another direction no matter how hard he tried. So he ended up running, working out, driving around, visiting the guys. Anything that would take him out of his head and jog things around in there. Maybe it would help if he unpacked all the boxes full of books and binders of fieldwork and reviewed everything. Hell, who was he kidding. The minute Carrie realized he was a professor of anthropology, she’d dump him. She wanted a bad boy. Considering his previous hard-core honesty, pretending didn’t bother him as much as he’d thought it would. The bad boy-naughty girl role play was the most relaxed he’d ever felt with a woman.
Shehadinvited him for drinks with her friends. Gaining acceptance of a potential partner with friends was important in a relationship. Though maybe the invitation to drinks had just been her way of seeing her friends for their standard get-together while still having the option to pursue her real goal—more passion with him. They were both addicted to what they had in the bedroom. The more sex they had, the more sex they wanted to have.
He’d be around for a few more months. Maybe she’d agree to keep seeing him. It would be torture to run into her around town, knowing he had to keep his distance. He scrubbed a hand over his face.Selfish.He had to think of her feelings. He would definitely be taking that Singapore opportunity, leaving right after Christmas to get settled there. The fellowship was highly prestigious and could lead to his choice of job later at a top university. He was fairly certain he’d get it, only a matter of waiting for all the paperwork to clear through the committee. It pained him to admit it, but deep down he knew it wasn’t fair to lead her on with something long-term knowing he was leaving the country.
He lay there for several more minutes, agitated with his warring desires to keep her close or push her away for her own good. Dammit. He knew the right answer. He wouldn’t be leading another woman on with a relationship only to ruin things in the end.
He rolled to his side and was struck all over again by her beauty. Not just a surface thing. Beautiful inside and out. So pure of heart it made his own heart ache with longing for just a small piece of it.
He pushed a lock of hair back from her face. “Carrie.”
“Hmm?”
“I went through your whole list.” He waited to see if she wanted out.
She turned to him and beamed. “We crushed it! Let’s go a full two weeks and repeat everything!”
Yes!“Cool.” The reprieve drained the tension right out of him.
She rolled into him and started kissing his neck, her hands roaming all over his chest and then lower.
He felt himself getting hard again. Two weeks was for the best. He needed to buckle down and get focused on his book. The university was paying him for this year off and he needed something to show for it. He couldn’t just sex, sex, sex all the time like an animal. He stifled a groan as Carrie’s hand closed around him.
“Carrie,” he croaked because she’d gotten really good at stroking him just the way he liked. It was a damn feat of strength that he could speak at all.
She stilled her hand and looked at him with some concern. “Yes?”
“Two weeks is the max I can do. It’s not you. I just don’t do long-term.”
“Never?” she asked softly.
He couldn’t tell if she was hurt or just clarifying out of curiosity. It didn’t matter. The important thing was to be clear. He cradled her face with one hand, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “Never,” he said and then kissed her gently to ease the harshness.
She kissed him back passionately, her hand gliding up and down the length of him, and any harsh truths seemed forgiven. He relaxed, revved and ready for round two. She shifted, grazing her cheek against his beard like a cat rubbing against him, still stroking him to blue steel. Then she grabbed a condom and rolled it on him.
The moment her hand shifted off his throbbing cock, giving his brain some much-needed oxygen, he asked, “What should we repeat first?” He wanted to make sure he repeated all her favorites in the time they had left. He’d liked everything on her list, but was in the mood for one item in particular—animals are primal. His accurate interpretation: animals are primal, humans are animals. Ergo, take me doggy-style. It was the most natural position if you looked big picture at all the animals.
“Mmm, surprise me,” she said.
