Page 27 of Goode to Be Bad

But I knew I’d blown up on people who didn’t deserve it, and I had to make it right.

Didn’t mean I had to like it.

“Lex, hold up.”

“No. We’re fighting.”

He didn’t try to catch up. “Why?”

“Because you seduced me out of my tantrum, and it worked, damn you. Also, that’smystrategy and you can’t have it.” I knew how childish and stupid I sounded.

He laughed.LAUGHED, damn him.

I let out a wordless howl of frustration and annoyance, knowing my anger and my whole entire fucked-up-ness was only going to build, and build, and build, because I was just so fucked in the head and heart about so many things, and didn’t have the ovaries to woman up and face any of it.

6

Myles

The poor girl was coming apart at the seams. She had so much going on in her head, so many issues and she was refusing to deal with any of them. I’m not a shrink, but I can see pretty damn well that she’s a mess. A beautiful disaster, but a disaster nonetheless. She needed support. She needed someone who could just…be there. Not be afraid of her titanic temper. Not take her outbursts personally. Someone who could help her find a sense of calm and control. Someone who could distract her.

I wanted to drag her stories out of her, drag the hard, painful truths of the past out of her. But I couldn’t do that. I didn’t dare force her to talk. Couldn’t force her to trust me.

So, all I could do was try to maintain calm and reason, and do what I could.

Which included giving her space to stomp off her anger. Let her be mad at me for stealing the thunder of her tantrum and co-opting her sex-as-distraction strategy.

I followed her at a distance, making sure she didn’t get lost in the condo complex, and letting myself relish the sweet view of her swinging ass in the tiny little skirt. So plump, so round, so juicy, filling out the denim until it was stretched so taut it was a wonder the seams didn’t fuckin’ split with each sultry step. And those thighs—damn. I loved watching them slide against each other, the jounce of the muscle, loved imagining and remembering the way they felt curled around my face as I devoured her.

How the hell I could be hornier for her now—after that epic fuck session—than I had been before, I wasn’t sure. But I was.

I didn’t dare let my libido take over entirely, or I’d end up doing something really idiotic, like trying to copulate with her under a damn bush or something. She just eradicated my self-control, my judgment, logic, reason, everything. Sexually, mentally, emotionally, she just…short-circuited everything I thought I knew about myself. Made me crazy. Unpredictable at best, and without any vestige of self-control at worst. Capable of…well, dragging her into a janitor’s closet in an occupied community center and fucking her until she sobbed and screamed. I think my ears were still ringing, actually.

And what thehellhad that been, there at the end? She’d been coming, and I’d been coming—I’d felt her pussy squeeze me harder than it had ever squeezed, so hard it actually hurt. And she’d gone from screaming like a banshee to silent, in an instant––from shaking and writhing in the throes of an almighty powerful climax to stiff and tense as a board, but shivering and trembling, almost like a seizure. Clinging to me, every limb, every muscle tensed. Then, she’d begun whimpering, mumbling something I couldn’t make out, too soft and under her breath. Desperation—it had been pure, unadulterated desperation I’d heard in her voice. That much I recognized. As if the orgasm she’d been feeling had gone past that, into something beyond a mere orgasm. It hadn’t been me—it was nothing I’d done. I’d been in the middle of finishing my own and couldn’t have consciously done anything anyway.

Was emotional fracture a thing? ’Cause that’s what it had seemed like to me, like she was fighting back her emotions and feelings for me, fighting so hard, so desperately that she just fractured and split apart, the emotions she’d been denying and refusing to deal with coming up anyway, in whatever way they could make themselves known in her brain and soul and heart.

Or maybe I’m just crazy.

Maybe it was just a one-off, weird kind of climax.

We reached her mom’s building, and she glanced at me for confirmation that it was the right one. I nodded, and stayed back, hands in my pockets, and then followed her inside.

Her mom was dressed, hair freshly styled, wearing dress slacks, low-heel wedge shoes, and a form-fitted pullover sweater. Looking sleek and professional. Lucas was still in his khakis, but he had his button-down back, the one Liv had been wearing, and he made the garment seem tiny and stretched to capacity. The man was a damned monster. He was sitting at the island with Liv, and they were both eating omelets and sipping coffee—two more plates sat on the other side of the island, each with a big omelet and several strips of bacon. I could smell a fresh pot of coffee.

I checked my phone, laughed. “I thought I’d entered a time warp, or something. Breakfast food and coffee at…nine at night?”

Lucas shrugged. “I like omelets. They’re easy to make and fuckin’ delicious. The coffee is half-caff. Liv is meeting with a client in an hour, because her client is a night owl.”

Liv picked at her omelet, eying Lexie. “Calmed down, now?”

Lexie huffed, adjusted my hat on her head. “A little. Not really, but a little.” She sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I’m sorry for my behavior. I’m just…dealing with a lot right now.” She looked at Lucas, hesitant, awkward. “I…especially you. I’m sorry.”

Lucas left his stool and stood in front of Lex, towering over her, his brown eyes warm and friendly. “Ah, no sweat, Lexie. I don’t take most shit seriously, just ask your mom. I could tell you were buggin’ when you walked in. It ain’t anything, all right?” He smiled down at her. “You need the words? Forgiven and forgotten. Already was before you ever came back, darl…ummm, Lex. Sorry, old habits die hard.” He clapped her shoulder with a huge paw, a fatherly gesture. “Made you two some food. Sit and eat.”

Lexie shifted from one foot to the other. “You made me food? After the way I spoke to you?”

I noticed Liv was fairly beaming, watching this exchange.