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Authors: Ellen Harper

Bad Boy Dom

BOOK: Bad Boy Dom
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This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

 

Bad Boy Dom copyright 2016 by Ellen Harper. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Prologue

 

Six Years Ago

 

Dom and I always walked home together; at least, we did whenever he’d actually made it to school that day. This was our senior year of high school, and in between partying, baseball, and girls, he didn’t exactly make much of an effort. We still lived next door to each other, but now if I looked out the window, I was more apt to see Domenic making out with his flavor of the week than a happy kid skateboarding in the driveway. Not that I could blame him exactly, but sometimes it just felt…disappointing. You know that feeling when you have a crush on someone for years and then you fall out of touch, but you see them again and something just ignites in you?

 

Yeah, Dom was sorta like that. We played together almost every day as kids, but when we both got to 8
th
grade, that stopped. He started hanging out with the kids who were going to play sports next year; I joined the debate team. We still hung out, but it was weird. Since we couldn’t really play together anymore, we’d take walks or go swimming together. One night, in 10
th
grade, I even thought he was going to kiss me; he showed up a little drunk and flirted with me all evening. I was delirious with happiness, I remember I went home and took a long bath and giggled to myself about having a boyfriend. It was one of the most painful times for me to wish that my mom was still alive, so I could gush to her instead of the mirror. But then, the next day, he had his arm around Fawn Daniels, and the kiss I was waiting for never came.

 

So I was pretty surprised when one day in April, right after midterms, Dom caught up with me just as I was leaving school.

 

“Hey, ‘Chelle-belle,” he teased, sticking out his tongue at me and smirking.

 

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” I teased back, blushing a little. I hated whenever anyone else called me by anything but my full name, but I never minded Dom’s stupid nicknames. From across the campus green, I could see a group of cheerleaders, staring at us.

 

“I passed my midterms,” he smirked at me, ruffling my hair.

 

I instantly groaned. “Domenic! That’s not even fair. You like, don’t even study.”

 

“Coach Haskell likes me,” he said in a teasing voice, showing off his magnificent grin. “I can’t imagine why.”

 

“That’s such bullshit,” I groused, folding my arms around my body. “What about the rest of us who actually do the work?”

 

“We have you to look up to,” Dom said, his expression dead serious. Taking one hand, he crossed his heart and looked to the sky. “Oh, nerdy overachievers, how we jock gods salute you!”

 

“Shut up,” I mumbled, walking faster. I
hated
him sometimes! He was just impossible to be around. It was so easy to forget how cocky he was when I was just admiring his sculpted, 6’4” body from afar. But once he talked to me, all I could see was red.

 

“Michelle,” Domenic pleaded. “Wait!” He had run up behind me and caught up, effortlessly, as he was always able to do. I stopped and rolled my eyes, dramatically slumping my shoulders.

 

“What,” I stated flatly, not turning around.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, wrapping an arm around me. For a moment, I was pulled into his musky fragrance, and I felt pleasure flood my body. The area between my legs tingled, as it did every time I inhaled his scent. A few years ago, I’d snuck around his room while he was in the bathroom and found a bottle of his cologne, but I’d forgotten the name.

 

“It’s fine,” I huffed, snuggling deeper into his arm. “It’s just annoying. I work so hard,” I whined. “I still have to worry about a college scholarship and everything.”

 

“Whatever,” he exhaled sharply, gazing at me with steely blue eyes. “You do not. You’re the smartest person in our class. You know you’re getting a scholarship, Michelle.”

 

“Hopefully,” I muttered, pushing his arm away and walking towards home.

 

“But hey, I don’t have to worry about that anymore, either!” Dom bragged, stretching up and reaching his arms behind his head. My mouth suddenly felt dry; there was a strip of golden skin on his lower torso that I could see when his shirt raised up.

 

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow, turning towards him. A wind blew my mousy brown hair in front of my face and I squinted, pushing it back behind my ears with my fingers.

 

“Yep,” he grinned, winking at me. “Since I did so well on my midterms, I know I’ll be getting a baseball scholarship.”

 

“Awesome,” I said flatly, looking down. “I’m proud of you.”

 

“I’m proud of me, too,” he replied, sauntering ahead of me. “I think we should celebrate.”

 

I rolled my eyes. This was going to be good. I wondered if he was going to ask me to drive him to a strip club, or buy him a lap dance. “And just what do you have in mind, Dom?”

 

He grinned devilishly and leaned down so quickly, that a lock of blonde hair tumbled into his eyes. “Mom’s out of town, she’s at an artist colony for the weekend. Butttttt,” he dragged out the word, catching my eye. “One of her hippie friends dropped off some fun stuff, if you know what I mean. Let’s hang out and relax. We haven’t done that in a long time.”

 

“Yeah,” I wondered aloud. “It has been a long time.”

 

“So you’ll say yes?” He smiled, teasing. I rolled my eyes.

“You know I can’t say no,” I admitted grudgingly, wishing I had worn a much cuter outfit that day. Although, most of my clothes were exactly like what I had on; straight leg jeans, loose sweater, with my hair pulled back in a ponytail.

 

When we got to our houses, I told him I was going to drop some stuff off and that I’d come back. In reality, as soon as I got in the door, I scrambled into the shower and washed with my vanilla body wash. I shaved my legs and after some hesitation, my bikini line and over my labia. Quickly, I threw on another pair of jeans, but I didn’t want to wear another unflattering sweater. Digging through my closet, I saw a tank top that one of my cousins had left a few years ago, so I pulled it on with no bra. Even though I was pretty skinny in high school, I had B cups by then, and I liked the way they looked with no bra. Gazing at myself in the bathroom mirror, I almost felt pretty.
Michelle, you’re being ridiculous
, my subconscious reminded me.
You are a nerd, and he dates girls who look like Emma Stone. He’s never going to see you as anything but a kid
.

 

Once I headed over to Dom’s, I immediately regretted showering and changing.

 

“Did you put all that on to impress me?” He teased, his eyes traveling up and down my body. I blushed; I wasn’t used to his attention that way.

 

“No,” I lied, blushing. I set my backpack down and stretched, suddenly conscious of the feeling of my tank top rubbing against my nipples.
Shit
, I thought, looking down.
I hadn’t thought of that
.

 

“Well, I like the view anyway,” Dom drawled, biting his lip and winking at me before walking into the kitchen. “What can I get you? Vodka-soda? Rum-Coke?”

 

“Uh,” I paused, thinking. “I’m not sure.” I looked down at my feet. “I’ve never actually had a drink.”

 

“Michelle,” Dom chastised, looking at me. “Really?”

 

“Yeah,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck.

 

“Wow,” he whistled, before laughing. “I am
such
a bad influence! Your dad is going to kill me.”

 

“He won’t know,” I explained. “He’s working a double shift and he won’t be home until Sunday morning.”

 

“So even if you’re hungover, he won’t find out?” Dom looked at me cautiously, waiting for me to respond.

 

“I don’t really want to be hungover,” I replied, honestly. “It doesn’t look fun. But I’ll try a drink.”

 

“Okay,” Dom said in a thoughtful voice, turning around. “I’ll try to make something weak, that doesn’t taste bad, okay?”

 

We settled on the couch with our drinks, and Dom asked if I wanted to watch a movie. I shrugged; we didn’t usually watch movies together because we had different tastes. But he asked if I wanted to see a new romantic comedy that had come out, and it sounded much better than something about the Vietnam War.

 

I sipped my drink, cautiously; it was light pink and had a sliver of orange peel in it. I was impressed, it looked like something from a magazine.

 

“Where did you learn how to make these?” I asked.

 

“Ohhh,” he said, looking away and grinning. I felt a knot in my stomach.

 

“I bet girls like them,” I commented sourly. He gave me a guilty grin.

 

“Sorry Michelle, but, at least it tastes good, right?”

 

“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes.

 

As we sat and watched the movie, I felt myself start to get sort of warm and tingly. My face felt red and hot, and my skin itched. Everything seemed a lot funnier, too, even though the movie Dom had put on wasn’t that great.

 

“Hey Michelle,” Dom started, digging around in a drawer. “Do you like to smoke?”

 

“Ew, no,” I responded. “How could you not know that? My dad is an RN! He’d kill me!” I was squeaking by the time I had finished; I couldn’t
believe
that Dom wanted me to smoke a cigarette!

 

“Michelle,” Dom said in a sing-song voice, dangling a plastic baggie in front of my face. “I didn’t mean cigarettes.”

 

“Oh,” I replied, blushing. I felt like such a moron; I couldn’t believe how much Dom always managed to embarrass me even though we were the same age.
Of course,
he hadn’t meant cigarettes.

 

“It’s okay,” Dom brushed the incident aside, not teasing me for once. “So do you want to?”

 

I was sitting next to him on the couch and I could smell a stale, skunky odor coming from the bag in his hand. I shook my head no, tentatively.

 

“No,” I said slowly. “What if there’s something else in it and we get sick?”

 

“Michelle,” Dom started, putting the baggie down. “Can you please just relax?”

 

“No,” I snapped, pushing him away. “Why do you have to be such a jerk all the time? You know I don’t run around doing things like that.”

 

“Alright, fine,” he sighed dramatically, running a tan arm through his thick blonde hair. “Forget I asked. Let’s have another drink.”

 

An hour later, I’d had three drinks and I felt a little…drunk? If this was what it felt to be drunk? Which was just giggly and happy, basically. The movie ended and Dom and I were playing Mario Kart, sitting next to each other on the couch and laughing.

 

“I can’t believe you won again!” He whined, laughing and throwing his controller down. “You cheat!”

 

“I do not!” I shrieked, laughing so hard that my sides hurt. “I’m just good at it!”

 

Suddenly, Dom froze and looked at me. “Oh yeah? Well, you know what I’m good at?”

 

“No,” I laughed. “Probably lots of things.”

 

He reached out and grabbed me easily with both hands, dragging me onto his lap. I squealed, shrieking and laughing as he manhandled me. I was kicking and flailing, and so was he, and when I settled down, I could feel something pressing into my ass. Dom grinned and reached down. He started tickling my sides, gently at first and then harder until I was shrieking and screaming and kicking every which way. His hands slipped my tank top further and further up my sides and suddenly, the mood changed. I settled down on his lap, but he didn’t take his hands away, and instead of tickling me, began stroking my sides softly. It still tickled, and I wriggled impatiently on his lap, making him breathe hard against my neck. He leaned down and took a deep breath, inhaling me.

 

“I’m good at tickling,” he murmured into my ear from behind. “And you smell so good,” he trailed off, planting a kiss at the top of my spine. An electric shock shot through me; it wasn’t my first kiss exactly, but it was my first kiss on anywhere other than the lips. I couldn’t believe this was happening; if Dom’s arms hadn’t been tightly wrapped around me, I would have pinched myself. Gently, I turned on his lap until I was facing him. His steely blue eyes made me melt as he stared at me with his cheeks flushed and his hair a mess. Without breaking my gaze, he reached down and wrapped my legs around his waist on the couch, pulling me closer on his lap. I swallowed, hard. My heart was thudding, and I was
so
glad I’d taken that shower.

BOOK: Bad Boy Dom
5.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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