Page 81 of Bad Intentions

I mustered a sardonic smile on my lips and didn’t look at Derek, like I wasn’t too interested. “Weren’t you invited to the barn party by Al and Vic?”

“Weren’t you?” he quipped.

“Yeah,” I lied. “But beer bongs, STDs, and bad decisions are not my thing.”

He chuckled again, the low suppressed laugh that made my stomach flutter. “Oh, yeah? That bad?”

“It’s the usual combo around here.”

“What is your thing, Birdie?”

“It’s Mallory,” I said. “Mal.”

“I see. Mal,” he repeated in that low voice that made the butterflies in my stomach roar.

That very moment, I knew I would go anywhere with him, do anything he asked, even if it meant trouble. He was trouble. I could smell it on him. And I wanted it, badly.

But I needed to hook him before Al and Vic were back in the picture. That meant now.

Slowly, I turned to face him, my knees weak from what I was about to say.

“Wanna get out of this circus?” I offered, locking eyes with him. I tilted my chin up, letting him know I was up for anything.

He gave me a curious once-over. “Where?”

“Your place.”

His brows rose. “My place, huh?”

Half an hour later, we were in a house on the outskirts of town, drinking whiskey on the rocks. I hated that stuff, but Derek loved it, and I went along, sipping it slowly so as to keep my head clear. Small talk, mostly me asking questions. People like to talk. His talking meant I didn’t need to come up with smart stories I didn’t have. Nothing as exciting as his plans to go to San Francisco.

Three drinks for him to half of one for mine, and I held my breath, went over to the armchair where he sat, and straddled him. I’d never done such a thing before.

“You are very straightforward,” he said, and I could tell he liked it. “You don’t bullshit around, huh, Mal?”

The fact that he was one of the few who called me by my name already gave him extra points, not that he needed any.

I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it aside. “I know what I want when I see it,” I said, repeating the phrase I heard Al use with guys.

Without waiting for a reply, I kissed him, then pulled back and licked my lips.

He raised a brow in question.

I studied his face for a moment. “You are a pretty good kisser.” Yet another phrase I heard Vic using with a guy.

Derek’s chest shook in an amused chuckle. He was hard everywhere, including where I needed him to be.

“Oh, yeah?” His hands slid around my waist. “You know what else I’m good at?”

Bingo! He took the bait.

Suddenly, he flipped me onto my back, sending a rush of excitement and anticipation through me. His taut body was on top of mine, and it felt good to see that want in his eyes.

But I needed to play the cool girl. I set my palm on his chest. “You have protection, right? I don’t know how many girls you bring home. Just want to make sure we are on the same page.”

I saw that in some movie, and it sounded powerful—that a woman was setting the rules. I was setting the rules.

“You are a smart little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured.