Page 117 of Bad Boy Romance


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This time, when he pushed inside me, I couldn’t help crying out loud. He was thicker than his fingers, and harder, the steel at the core of his shaft intense and thick with pressure as he inched his cock into me. He moved slowly, a few centimeters at a time, letting me adjust to his width the whole time. But with each inch deeper he moved, the stretch increased, and so did the pleasure. When his balls touched my pussy lips, and his hips ground into mine and he’d fully entered my ass, I felt fuller than I ever had in my life. I felt stuffed to the brim, ready to burst, speared on his length, and I couldn’t get enough of it. I wriggled back against him, ground my hips into his as I groaned, unable to articulate the pleasure anymore, unable to explain anything, because all I knew was that I wanted more of this, more of him.

“Fuck, you feel amazing, Clove,” he murmured, the character broken. I looked over my shoulder and he kissed me, deep, probing, his tongue exploring my mouth the way his cock explored my ass.

“Take me,” I gasped when we parted, and he did. He slid back out of me, then pushed back in, slow at first, rocking gently against me to let my ass adjust to the sensation, grow used to his cock probing deep inside me. Finally, he worked his way up to fucking my ass fully, and I leaned forward against the carpet, braced on my forearms, my face buried in the rug as I cried out. I was so loud it barely muffled me, but Zayne was just as loud, groaning as he slammed into me, losing control, his hands wrapped tight around my hips as he fucked me so hard I knew I wouldn’t be able to walk straight the next day.

I still couldn’t. If I clenched my ass now, I could feel him inside me, the memory of his cock inside my ass. I did it again, felt that bone-deep ache even as I continued to fuck myself with my fingers, leaning into the hot stream of water.

I come hard, gasping to myself in the shower, letting the pleasure wash through me. I hope on its way through it will wash away some of these memories, stop letting them control me, so I can focus and ask Zayne everything I need to know tonight, instead of just wanting to jump his bones the second I see him again.

I finish and wash myself off, though I still don’t feel clean by the time I climb out of the shower again. I think it will be hard to feel clean again, not for a long time. Not until I can get all of these dirty memories of the weekend out of my head. Which at the moment feels like it might be never. How could I forget the hottest weekend of my life?

I dress in jeans and a blouse—casual but not totally lazy. I still want to look hot. Mostly because I want him to regret what he’s missing out on. But still.

My doorbell rings at 10:02pm. Got to give him that, he’s prompt.

I answer it and freeze on the threshold, stunned by the size of the bouquet he’s holding.

“Zayne…” I start, but he’s already handing it to me. It’s a mixed bouquet, made of white flowers dotted here and there with colorful roses, a mix like I’ve never seen before. It smells amazing, and the moment I accept the vase, my whole apartment seems to brighten with the color of the flowers. Still. That’s just one small gesture.

But I can’t deny that it loosens the tight knot in my chest somewhat.

“Come in,” I call over my shoulder with a sigh as I set the vase down on my kitchen counter. The jerk is winning me over already and I’ll bet he knows it, cocky bastard. I keep my gaze on the flowers as he shuts the door behind him.

“Clove, I just want to say how sorry I am for all of this. You were right.”

I turn to look at him now, and am surprised to find his eyes over-bright, fixed on mine with an expression of pleading in them.

“I should have told you about all of this from the start. I should have let you know it was a possibility. And I definitely shouldn’t have asked you for that selfie, not when I knew this could happen. It’s just, it’s been years since this has happened, so I thought it was over, I thought we were done with this goddamn dance now.”

“Dance?” I raise an eyebrow.

He shakes his head. “Something I used to say with… With her.” He grimaces. “You were right about that too. I should have just told you the truth when you asked me, in the café earlier today. I just… I didn’t want to admit to it. I thought you’d judge me, especially since…” He shakes his head again, harder. “No. No more excuses.” He swallows hard, with what looks like real effort, and meets my eye again. “Remember when you asked me why I’m still single?”

I nod. Of course I do. “You acted really strange about it,” I point out.

He laughs faintly, with no real humor behind it. “Well, because it’s a really strange situation. I was… I was dating someone a few years ago. We were together for three years. At first I was really into her, she seemed so attentive, so nice and caring. But things got… Strange. The longer it went on, the more red flags popped up. I realized that things weren’t working out, and I tried to end it.”

“Tried?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Well. I did end it. Two and a half years ago. But she didn’t… She didn’t accept it.”

“What do you mean?” I lean against the counter. The scent of the flowers catches in my nose again, and I sigh faintly, distracted by the pleasant smell.

“She started following me everywhere. To my old job, to home. Any time I went out with anyone else, even just friends, she’d get their phone numbers and call them, harass them, try to get them to tell her who I was with and what I was doing. She was even worse to anyone I was dating. After the first few dates, when she stole the girls’ phone numbers and wrote them on bathroom walls, I cut off all contact with her. Changed my phone number, left my old job, hell, I even moved.”

My eyebrows rise, if possible, even higher. “You changed jobs and moved because of her?”

“Not exactly because of her, really. I’d been thinking of making changes in my life. I was dragging my feet before, delaying because it scared me. Her creepy behavior just gave me the final push I needed to get out of my routine and change things up. But…” He sighs and gazes at the flowers with a forlorn expression.

“But?” I prompt, when he doesn’t speak again for a long moment.

“She found me.”

“Here?” My mouth drops open. No wonder he’s still single, if this is what he thinks women are like. If this is what he’s had to deal with in his life already.

He’s nodding, a grimace on his face. “She works in tech, so stalking me, finding where I worked and lived, then trying to find whoever I was dating, it’s her professional skillset. The first few dates I went on after we broke up, she pulled this exact stunt. Stole photos of the girls—some of them nudes, some of them just regular pictures that she edited and Photoshopped to look like the girls were naked. She posted them everywhere, harassed the women, started fake websites like she did with yours.” Zayne groans and runs a hand through his hair. “I had to file a restraining order. We got everything set down legally. After that, I hadn’t heard a thing from her. It’s been over a year since she did this to anybody, and I’ve been on a few dates since then. I figured the danger had passed. She hasn’t tried to ruin any other girls’ lives in a year, so I didn’t even think to warn you…”

I groan and press my fingers to my temples, massaging. “Shit, Zayne. I’m so sorry that you had to deal with that.”

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