A Real Bad Boy(17)

But there was no way in hell I was going to do that. I was too far gone and I knew it.

This was so much more than a revenge fuck for all the frustration she put me through in high school.

I opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. I'd make or order dinner, but  first I needed a damn drink. I opened it and took a swig before  throwing the cap in the trash. It was then that I saw the flowers and  the note that I set on the counter, Elijah's words staring up at me.

"See you soon."

I certainly would be seeing him soon. That fucker was going to get a visit. From me.





Chapter Eleven



Willow



"You have no idea how much I needed this," I said as I took a big bite  of pizza. Somehow, whenever I was feeling shitty, it always seemed to  pick up my spirits.

"I have a feeling I do," Zach said as he finished his slice. "You finished? I want to take you somewhere."

"Where?"

"Get your coat and I'll show you." He smiled at me and waited. Who the  fuck was this guy and why didn't they clone men like him? Jesus.

I grabbed my coat and put it on, then I followed him out the door.

"I want to take you somewhere really special to me." He opened the door  to his muscle car and I climbed in. "Somewhere I've never actually taken  anyone else."

He slid into the passenger's seat and drove. It must've been thirty  minutes before we were downtown in Atlanta, but I knew the High the  moment I saw it. I'd been there on field trips and a couple of times on  dates. The High was what made me fall in love with art. It was what  started my course of studies.

"You're taking me to a museum?" I said as he parked the car. "I just didn't think that was your type of thing."

"Yeah, there is a lot you don't know about me," he said as he smiled. "I  remember your art, though. In high school. The paintings you did on  wood, the sculptures. We didn't overlap much in terms of how many years  we were there, but what you did stood out."

I blushed. I'd stopped doing art in favor of studying it. It was pretty  much a hobby of my past at this point. I'd spent most of my time,  instead, writing papers and studying pieces.



***





Willow



As soon as I walked into the gallery I remembered why I loved this  place. The solid wood floors were accentuated by the beautiful lighting,  and the white walls put the paintings at the forefront of anyone's  view. It was elegant and open and it had everything I'd ever loved in  it. The regular collection was truly stunning, but the rotating exhibits  were what I'd always looked forward to as a child. Still, today it was  like coming home and eating the best comfort food I had access to. It  was soul nourishing.                       
       
           



       

I didn't realize until we were through the first couple of rooms that I  had a hold of Zach's hand. As soon as I realized that I'd taken it, I  started to panic, but I didn't let it go. We'd been spending time  together, sure, but I didn't consider us dating. Hell, this might  technically be our first date.

I bit my lip and tried to decide if I wanted to keep holding it, but he squeezed it tighter and looked at me.

"This one was my mom's favorite," he said as he pointed to "Flowers in a  Basket". It was a beautiful still-life of a floral arrangement. The  colors were bright and bold and realistic. It was ornamental yet  stunning.

"It's not modern or flashy, and most people would consider it hotel art  instead of actual art today, but it was her favorite. She loved flowers  because their life was so delicate and finite. Kind of like humans."

It was the first I'd ever really heard him talk about his mother. Just a  fleeting glimpse, but I knew there was something there. Something he  wasn't ready or willing to talk about, and it gave me hope. I wanted to  know him. Know all of him. His hopes, his fears, his past. I had pieces  and parts of it, but the more I got to know him, the more I wanted to  unravel the mysteries about him.

"Did she bring you here often?" I asked.

He shook his head. "It's not really an affordable gallery, so we only  came whenever there were free days. We didn't have a whole lot growing  up, but we had each other." Sadness clouded his face. He must've been  remembering something dark, so I just stood there with him as we stood  side by side and stared at that painting. He would talk when he was  ready, and I'd be there when he was. I remembered a lot about him, but  the sadness, the anger, those things stood out the most. After his mom  died, he was nothing but the two. He'd gotten into so many fights at  school they almost didn't accept him into the army. I remembered the  rumors.

The hottest boy in school always had a lot of rumors going around about him, no matter the reason.

"I wanted to bring you here because this is a special place for me,  Willow. It's got mixed feelings, but it's a part of me. Do you  understand?" he asked as he looked into my eyes. "I'm a fucking asshole.  I know that. I get into fights, and if I don't, I start itching to.  I've always been that way. Hell, it was part of the reason I joined the  army. But I am who I am, and I let each part of my life teach me  something else."

He pulled me into him, and I wrapped my arms around him. Silence passed  between us before he said, "Not everything that has happened to you has  been good, but it's a part of who you are. It's a part of what is going  to make you stronger. But you are already strong. You are a fucking  fighter, too, you know that?"

Someone shushed him as soon as he swore but he ignored them.

"I'm trying to be."

"That's a good girl." Zach bent down and kissed me, his touch tender and short.

But I wanted more. I wanted more of him. I bit his lip and kissed him  just like I wanted. Telling him exactly what I wanted. "I think we're  done here," he said as he turned and pulled me out of the gallery.

I couldn't wait for us to get home, it was too damn long, so when he  threw me in his car and climbed in after me, grabbing me and pulling me  to him as he kissed me hard, his fingers wrapping around my waist as he  pulled me into him, the touch of his skin, the taste of his breath, it  was all so perfect.

Rough and wild and everything that I knew could keep me safe.

I wanted more of it. I wanted him.

Over and over again.

I wanted him every time.

"Fucking hell, Willow. I can't fucking wait," he said as he leaned back his seat.

The vintage muscle car was roomy, and as soon as he put the seat down I  knew exactly what was going to happen. I was going to fuck him right  here in the middle of downtown Atlanta. And it was going to be hard and  rough, just like I wanted.

I slipped off my underwear and pulled myself over his lap as I undid his  pants and pulled out his cock. He was ready to go, his length hard and  ready for me as it stood stiffly at attention.

Fuck, every time I saw it, I wrapped my hand around it and marveled at  the width of it. He was so big and yet time and time again he fit inside  me, he filled me up fully and completely.

This wasn't going to be any different.

I wanted him fast and hard and with absolutely no fucking pretenses.

So I positioned myself over him, my skirt still on, and I looked down  into his eyes. "I want this," I said with all the conviction in the  world. "I want you."

"Then you take what you want, Willow," he said as he gripped my hips and  guided me down onto him, his cock entering me slowly as I slid down it.  "You take exactly what you want."                       
       
           



       

He filled me to the brim as I moaned hard into his shoulder.

Every bit of him was against every bit of me, reminding me of how  connected we were. How strong he was. But my arousal spurred me on as I  started rocking back and forth on his cock. His windows were tinted, but  I still worried that anyone would walk by and see us. It would be a lie  if I didn't admit that it heightened all of my senses.

"Ride me, baby," he moaned as he leaned back and looked up at me.

I dug my nails into his shoulder and did just that. Each movement, each  feeling, it spilled over into moans of pleasure as I rode him hard.

I didn't hold back. Not for a second.

I worked myself up and down his cock, taking control of myself. Taking control of him. I was on top. I was the one in charge.

No one could take away my control.

"I want you," I whispered into his ear as I slowed my pace almost to a stop.

I was tormenting him. Teasing him. I was making him wait for what I wanted to give.

But he grabbed my hips and rocked me back and forth, taking control.

"Fucking take me, Willow."

Fuck, it felt so good that I lost sight of what I was trying to accomplish and I just felt him.