So Trashy (Bad Boy Next Door Book 2) (7 page)

Lou pushes against me, slowly backing away.

Fuck.

“Lou. Wait. Please. It’s been a long time. Can we at least
talk?”

She stops. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

I step to her again, close enough that her magnolia scent
wafts around me. Memories of us together bombard me, stiffening my cock and
transporting me to another time when she always came
to
me, never walked
away.

I take her hand and squeeze lightly. “Don’t you miss me at
all, Lou?”

She backs up a couple more steps. “I’m only here for a few
weeks to help Aunt Delores. You have your Hollywood friends with you. Do us
both a favor and stay over there. I’ll keep my distance, and we can avoid any
unpleasantness.”

“Unpleasantness? Lou, nothing you and I ever did was
un
pleasant.
Or did you forget?” In one step, my body presses her against the side of the
house.

Her hands flatten on my chest, fingers digging in just
enough to send a tingle through my pecs, straight to my hard dick.

Her breath comes quick as she turns her head to the side.
“Back the fuck off.”

I lean in and run my jaw along hers. “Do you really want
that?”

She lets out a strangled sound. Then, in a heartbeat, she
slips her hands behind my neck and yanks me to her. Her mouth slides across
mine. I grab her and pull her to me, letting my erection throb between us.
Damned jeans.

Her kiss teases my lips. I fold her into my embrace. Our tongues
battle for control. Like a flood, heat slams through me.

Lou shimmies close, her full breasts push against my chest,
one leg hiking to wrap my thigh. Her palm finds my ass. She moans when I take
hold of hers with both hands, yanking her in tighter to my groin.

I pull back for a moment, heaving breaths. “Fuck, that’s
hot.”

She slips from my arms. I follow. We creep through the dark,
around the porch, to the side of the house. At the door leading into her room,
she stops.

I take hold of her again, sliding my fingers into her
waistband. Her caramel skin is as soft as I remember. I run my hands into her
shorts and over her ass, its fullness sending a pulse through my erection.

“Fuck, Lou. I want you. I’ve missed—I’ve missed you.”

She moves her hands to my jaw, pulling my face to hers. Her
mouth once again attacks, her tongue assaulting mine, her lips setting me
aflame.

Then she’s kissing my neck, dragging my shirt over my head.
Moving south, until she’s on her knees in front of me, her fingers at my belt
buckle.

Hell yes. She’s going suck my cock. So much for not getting anything
from her. I knew she missed me.

I grab her under her arms and pull her up. I’ll fucking
embarrass myself if she wraps those lips around me right now. Best work up to
that. I slide my fingers into her shorts. Holy fuck. Silken skin meets my touch
as I feather across petal-soft pussy lips. She’s clean shaven.

“Shit. I can’t wait to taste you.” I breathe into her ear as
I slip a finger between her folds. Slick and wet.

My cock’s rock hard and jealous of my hand.

Lou hooks one leg around my waist as I plunge two fingers
deep into her entrance for a quick dip. Then, I turn her so she leans forward
over the porch railing. I hook my fingers into the elastic at her waist and
drag her shorts down over that hot ass. A dark patch on her skin, about where
bikini bottoms might ride, teases my vision, too hard to see. I kiss the tat
and then the top of her seam.

I let my mouth follow my fingers as I move further down and
push my hands between her ample thighs. I spread her legs so I can get to her
entrance. She exhales with a little moan when my tongue finds her creamy
center.

Fuck, she’s sweet. God, how could I forget just how good she
tastes?

I unbutton my jeans, letting my erection free. I slide my
hand over my cock as I lick her pussy and sink my tongue between her folds,
swirling to gather every drop of her sweetness.

She leans further over the rail, tilting her ass up and
spreading her legs a bit more, giving me better access.

I slip a thumb into her and pump while I tongue her clit, sweeping
the tip back and forth in rhythm with my thrusts.

Lou lets out that hot, little sound, and I tighten my grip
on my cock. I’ve waited a long time to hear that noise again.

I lick up her backside and tickle her tight little hole. She
pulls away, so I move back to her bud. She groans and hikes one knee onto the
rail. I ram my thumb in and out of her pussy until her hips jerk and she humps
against my face. My other hand works my dick as I suck her nub harder.

I savor her as she pants above me. I drive into her until
her muscles clench tight around my thumb. She grunts and bears down against me,
drenching my hand. I pull out and lap up the cream waiting for me.

Juicy and tasty as fuck.

I sit back, stroking my hard-on, licking my lips as she
rolls over against the rail. Her pussy’s right there. I lean up, giving her
clit one last tickle and suck.

I give it a little kiss, whispering, “I missed you too.”

She chuckles and shakes her shorts off her ankle.

I stand, still rubbing my erection.

Her eyes flit to my cock and back to meet my gaze.

I grin. “Good?”

She runs the tip of her tongue across her teeth. “Oh, yeah.”

I smile and wink, though I’m not sure she can see me all
that well in the small amount of moonlight shining down on us.

She moves around and pushes me against the rail. “Whatcha
doing with your willy there,
Buck?
”

“I’m getting ready to sink it into those dick-sucking lips
or that hot pussy, which I just ate like a boss, I might add. Lady’s choice.”

A giggle escapes her as she backs up a step or two. “Really?
Like a
boss
? Who still says that? And
wow
. Lady’s choice,
is it?”

I pull my hand up my cock and let it pop free, long, proud,
and ready for its turn. “That’s right. Whatever you want, Lou. Completely up to
you.”

Her gaze drops to my cock. When her eyes meet mine again,
she grins. “That fits perfectly with what I was thinking.”

Another step back, and her hand’s on her doorknob.

Oh good. The bed. So much better than the rail.

I take a step to follow, but she’s through the door, and it
slams in my face before I get a foot in.

“What the fucking hell, Lou?”

Her laughter sends a spear of heat—not the good kind—shooting
through me.

I slap my palm flat against the wood. “What’re you doing?”

She cracks the door. A chain stretches across the opening.
“You said, and I quote, ‘Lady’s choice.’ I
choose
to turn in for the
night. Thanks for the tongue fuck.”

The door shuts again. My raging erection flexes as anger
builds. I’ve never had a woman want to stop. To just
quit
.

I step to the window, knocking as I call through the glass,
“I don’t get it.”

The light flips on inside. Three seconds go by and the
curtain swishes to the side. Her fists rest on her hips, her pussy lips still
puffy from where I sucked them until she came. She stands there, wearing only
her top, looking at me with a smile like the fucking cat that ate the whole
aviary of damned canaries.

I lift my hands in a
what-the-fuck
gesture. “Well?”

“I don’t want your cock right now. Not sure I’ll ever want
it again. But I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

The heat that was frying my dick a few minutes ago moves to
my head, setting my brain on a slow boil. “You
don’t
want my cock?”

She crosses her arms and shakes her head, her smile turning
devious.

She moves one leg to the side and points to her still
glistening pussy. “Buck, honey, I figured something out after you ran off to
California and left me behind. As long as I’ve got one of
these
, I can
have as many of
those,”
She nods to my erection.
“
as I want.”

She lifts an eyebrow as she snatches the curtains closed.

Well, I’ll be—
fucked
.

Or not.

I take one step and flop backward onto the bed. With both
hands over my face, I giggle.

Damn
that felt good.

The pussy eating he did was great. But the look in his eyes
when I opened the door and told him I’m going to bed—fucking priceless. Teach
his ass to think he can smooth-talk his way into getting laid.

Asshat.

He can pack up his cock and carry it back to Hollywood for
that shit.

As I stare at the ceiling, trying to relax enough to sleep,
that last conversation I had with Buck before he took off runs through my head
on a loop.

He pulled me into his arms, held me close, and dropped a kiss
at my temple. “You’re eighteen now, you don’t need me anymore.”

“ I’ll always need you, Buck.” The pain in my chest was
enough to double me over. It was all I could do not to drop to my knees, but
that would be truly humiliating, and I’d already tasted enough humiliation to
last a lifetime.

He held me away from him and looked me right in the eyes.
“Look, you and me, we’re on separate paths. It’s not like it was before. We
always knew this wasn’t going to last forever.”

“But it could, Buck. Couldn’t it?”

His face went through a myriad of expressions—happiness,
confusion, anger—finally settling on determination.

But then his eyes hardened. “Look, Lou. We were never
meant to stay together. If we do, it’ll be a nail in the coffin of my career. I
have to leave. You go to college and use that scholarship you worked so hard
for. Someday you’ll thank me for this.”

Thank him? For ripping my soul to shreds and lighting a
match to it? Not likely. It’s been damn near five years, and I’ve never felt
gratitude for what he did. Not once.

Evening brings a cool breeze and the longing to get outside
and enjoy it while it lasts.

But Buck’s next door. Do I really want to deal with him if
he comes around?

Fuck him. After last night, I doubt he’ll show up over here
again anytime soon.

Bastard.

Letting myself out of the house, I slide my flip-flops onto
my feet. I slowly make my way to the north side of Aunt Delores’s place,
instead of going south toward the Buckners’.

My ankle still aches, but if the military taught me anything
it was to push past the pain. I tramp through the unkempt path through the
little strip of trees that used to separate the Dubois’ from the Fontaines’
place—my mom’s place.

Aunt Delores and Uncle Manny bought my old house three or
four years ago. My childhood home, if anyone could call it a home, still
stands—if the term
stands
is used loosely. It’d be more accurate to say
it leans…collapses…disintegrates at a low rate of speed—too slowly, in my
opinion.

I push clingy weeds from my path and cross into the clearing
that surrounds the decaying single-wide trailer where, more times than not, I
spent the night hungry, alone, or scared. Or all of the above.

I wander to the place under the Bois d’Arc tree where I
first met Aunt Delores. I was thirteen, and she had a basket filled with warm
blueberry muffins and a smile.

She walked into the yard with her basket over her arm,
picking her way through the brambles and brush.

I carefully scrambled down from the horse-apple tree. But,
even though I was careful, one of the three-inch-long thorns still caught my
top as I made my way from limb to limb. It tore the fabric and sent a streak of
stinging pain through me. I jumped down, holding my side.

The woman rushed over, set her towel-covered basket on
the ground, and knelt beside me. “You all right?”

An angry scratch leaked droplets of blood from my hip to
my ribcage. I dashed the tears escaping from my eyes. “I’m okay.”

Her kind eyes were the bluest I’d ever seen. “Darlin’,
that doesn’t look okay to me. Let’s tell your momma, so she can fix you up.”

She turned toward the rickety front steps.

I latched onto her hand, pulling her to a stop. “No. No.
Momma’s not home right now. I know where the bandages are, I’ll fetch one.”

She narrowed her eyes for a moment. “Well, I’ll admit,
I’ve been watching the road for your momma or daddy to get home. I want to
introduce myself to my new neighbors. And not thirty minutes ago, I saw that
brown car right there pull into your driveway. You sure your momma’s not home?
Maybe your daddy’s here.”

Busted.

I stood to my fullest height, five-foot-four the last
time Buck got out his Pop’s tape measure. I looked her in the eye and swallowed
the lump forming in my throat. “I lied. I’m sorry. Momma’s home, but she’s
sleeping and doesn’t like to be woke up. I ain’t got no daddy.”

“Next time, just tell me the truth. If we’re going to be
friends, friends don’t lie to each other.”

I bit my bottom lip, twisting my fingers behind me as I
nodded.

She offered her hand. “I’m Delores Dubois. And you are?”

I placed my hand in hers. “Lou.”

“Well, I’m just tickled to meet you, Lou.”

She went home, but returned a few minutes later with some
ointment and bandages.

After she fixed me up, I said, “Thank you. Momma woulda
whooped me good. She’s told me not to climb that tree at least a hundred times.”

She patted my cheek. “Then why climb that one? Especially
when there are so many other good climbing trees around?”

I shrugged. “I like that tree, it’s the safest.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she laughed. “I don’t think so. Look
at your side, Young’un. How can you say it’s the safest?”

“No one would ever follow me up it. I like to practice,
just in case I ever need to get away from someone.”

She nodded as though she understood.

We sat under the weeping willow and ate muffins. She told me
about her husband, Manny, and how they’d bought the old McIntire place that sat
between us and the Buckners’. She made me laugh at the stories she told about
her nieces and nephews. Then she invited me to visit any time I wanted.

Delores Dubois was the second person who ever made me feel
important.

Buck was the
first
.

As though materializing from my thoughts, Buck steps around
the corner of the ramshackle trailer house.

He stops, a perplexed expression on his face.

I ask, “What?”

He shakes his head as he crosses the overgrown yard to me.
“Nothing, I just wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

“Oh? You mean you weren’t
stalking
me?”

“Fuck, Lou. You have the lowest possible opinion of me about
everything
, don’t you?”

I cross my arms. “Pretty much. It didn’t exactly help that
you went all caveman on me at the club—”

“Okay, maybe I was out of line—
maybe
.”

“And then you thought you could just come over and slink
your way into my bed.”

He lets out a loud huff. “Well, you left me with a raging
case of blue balls, so I think we’re even.”

My eyes narrow and I poke him in the chest to emphasize each
word I spit. “I left you?
I
left YOU? You left me first.”

“What the fuck? I wasn’t going to leave. I got you off and
was planning to do it again, and again.”

“I’m not talking about last night, you jackass. For months I
fucking waited for you to miss me. To call me. To
come back
to me.
There’s no way in fucking hell you didn’t deserve every excruciating second of
blue balls you had last night, and then some. A whole lot more of some. You got
into my pants and couldn’t wait to take off the very next day.”

Tears prick the backs of my eyes. “You and I made love that
last night. I was naïve enough to think it would make you want to stay. But I
guess it meant something different to you than it did for me. And since then,
I’ve seen you all over the gossip shows and in the fucking papers with a new
girl every week—fuck, almost every day. Looks like
hit it and quit it
is
your MO. So I guess I’m no different than any of them.”

The muscle ticks at his jaw. “Those girls all knew the
score. I didn’t lead any of them on. I
didn’t
lead you on. You and I had
planned for things to go just the way they did for
months
.”

He grabs my hand, yanking me to him, circling my waist with
his other arm. “You were supposed to be heading to college.
Supposed
to
be starting a new life. Moving on. Getting out. Both of us were.”

I look away. “Well, I didn’t go to school, and you never
called. But I did get out. You did too. So I guess none of it matters now anyway.”

“It matters to me. I did what I did to help you. I never
meant for it to hurt you. Never.”

I push out of his embrace. “Well, it did.”

Tugging my T-shirt into place, I limp toward the tree line.

“Shit. I’m sorry about your ankle, Lou.”

I shrug. “I’ve had worse injuries. Pain is just weakness
leaving the body, right?”

Ever since the first time I heard that saying, I’ve wondered
if that includes pain of the soul? If so, mine must be made of steel, forged in
the fires of suffering and heartbreak.

He takes several strides to catch up with me. “Can we start
over? I want to be friends. I’ve missed you, Lou.”

I stop, putting my hand flat on his chest, halting him. “
Friends
?
Yeah, that worked out so well for me the last time. Look, I’m not going to fuck
you or anything else, Buck. So run along. I’m just not interested.”

His jaw drops a fraction, but he recovers quickly. “You
know, maybe I’m not as bad as you’ve convinced yourself I am. Maybe—damn it,
Lou—maybe I
do
want to fuck you. Is that so wrong?”