Bad For You Read online

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

  “I’m dying.”

  “You’ll be okay,” Rob promises. “Drink some water.”

  He’s wrong. I’m dying.

  I shake my head. I can’t sit up. Too dizzy.

  The mattress sinks on one side. He’s sitting beside me. “I’ll help you.” He eases an arm under my shoulders and lifts them off the bed. Then he places the glass at my mouth and tips it. Cool water hits my lips. Reluctantly I sip and swallow, hoping he’ll set me back down if I drink a little. It works.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “You were drugged.”

  Ah, so that’s why I feel so bad! It wasn’t the alcohol!

  I remember bits and pieces of the party. Simon. Cute Simon. Going upstairs to get a drink. It was fruity and yummy. Playing cards. Then waking up here.

  How big is the hole in my memory?

  “What time is it?” I ask.

  “Almost eight.”

  “In the morning? It’s morning?” I check the window. Sure enough, a slice of light cuts between the drawn curtain panels. Oh shit! What day is it? What day was yesterday? Friday. I remember now. That makes today Saturday. Thank God! I’d be screwed if it was Monday. I can’t even imagine trying to comprehend calculus like this. “Did you say I was drugged?”

  “Yes.” He caresses my arm. I like the way he’s touching me, taking care of me. I feel safe. My gaze wanders up his arm, climbs over his broad shoulders and up to his face. He’s still wearing the same shirt he had on last night. I remember it. I remember sliding my hands over the soft fabric.

  Purple smudges stain the skin beneath his eyes.

  Why?

  “How did I get here? Where is here?” I check out my surroundings again. This place is much nicer than the party house.

  Big, comfy bed. Tufted headboard. Crisp white duvet and matching white curtains. Sophisticated gray walls.

  “You’re in my place. I brought you here last night.”

  Yes, I recognize it now. I’m in his bedroom. I never spent much time in this room, so it’s not surprising that I didn’t recognize it right away. That, and the fact that I’m semi-unconscious. And dying. “Why? Why didn’t you just take me back to my dorm?”

  “I wanted to make sure you’d be okay. Some of those date rape drugs can be dangerous if you take too much. I didn’t know what they gave you.”

  Holy crap, if that’s the case, I’m one lucky girl! “That’s a sweet thing to do—stay up all night, to watch over the really stupid younger sister of your best friend. Thank you.” Feeling a smidge better (physically—mentally I feel like a total idiot), I scoot up, resting my back against the cushy headboard.

  He bites down on his lower lip and scrunches his brows. “My motivations weren’t all noble.” He hands me the water glass. “Drink.”

  Our fingers brush as I take the glass from him. “What do you mean?” I sip. The water feels cool in my dry mouth and throat.

  “We’ll talk about that later. After you eat some breakfast.” He stands, offering me a hand. I’m assuming you’d like to use the bathroom, maybe clean up. “Do you think you can walk?”

  “I think so.” I flip the sheet off, discovering I’m wearing only my bra and panties. “My clothes?”

  “They were torn and soiled. I had to throw them away.” He watches as I wobble to my feet, close enough to grab me if I need.

  Holy crap. Do I want to know how they got torn? Clearly I’ve forgotten a lot about last night. Then again, maybe that’s a good thing. “Um, okay.” I take one step, another. I’m moving slow. My legs unsteady, my head a little spinny.

  “I’ll get you something to wear as soon as I know you can make it to the bathroom without falling.” He motions to a door. It looks really far, in my current state, though it’s probably less than ten feet away.

  “I’m fine.” I toss a dismissive hand. It’s embarrassing, being so needy. It’s bad enough he had to come to my rescue in the first place. I’ve learned a very valuable lesson. I’ll never trust someone I’ve met at a party again! I feel some sense of accomplishment when I make it to the bathroom without collapsing…or throwing up. I close myself in.

  “You can use my toothbrush if you want,” Robert shouts through the door. “And I’ll leave some clothes for you on the bed.”

  “Thanks!” I shout back as I crank on the shower faucet.

  God, I hope the shower makes me feel more human. Because I hate feeling this way, being this way. Though I’m glad it’s Rob who’s seeing me like this.

  Thank God for Rob.

  Though I wonder…what were those not-so-honorable motivations he was talking about?

  Chapter 2

  Rob

  I’ve got her where I want her.

  But for how long?

  Standing at my stove, I smile to myself.

  For years I’ve fought my feelings for Taylor. Years.

  I’m done fighting. Even if it means the loss of my best friend. I can’t help how I feel. And I’m not going to try anymore.

  I want Taylor. It’s that simple.

  I want her more than I want my next breath. I want her with the worst bone-deep ache I’ve ever felt. I want her so much I can barely function.

  Work? Yeah, it’s gone to hell. All because I’d decided to stay away from her.

  It didn’t help. Nothing’s going to.

  She must be mine. I’ll do anything—I mean, anything—for her.

  Case in point, last night. How many guys would go to a college party to keep an eye on a girl? A girl they’re not even dating?

  I guess some people might think it’s a little stalker-ish. But I know Taylor. I know how naïve she is, how little she knows about men, about the way they think, the justifications they use to do things like what they tried to do to her.

  If I hadn’t been there to protect her…I shudder to think of what would have happened. At the very least she would have been gang-raped. By a bunch of assholes who deserve everything they have coming to them.

  Which is jail time, I hope. And a rough butt-fuck by an inmate.

  But one good thing came out of last night.

  Taylor is in my house now.

  In my bed.

  Correction—she’s in my shower.

  How much longer will she be?

  Growing impatient, I stir the scrambled eggs. The toast is done. The eggs, almost. And I have fruit and juice. It’s all waiting for her. For my Taylor.

  I shut off the burner and dump the eggs out of the pan, onto a plate.

  Footsteps! I hear the soft pitter-pat of bare feet on the wood floor. My heart skips a beat.

  She’s coming.

  I set the plate on the table just as she strolls into the room, looking like a goddess. Her wet hair hangs around her shoulders in heavy waves, water dribbling from the ends and wetting the shoulders, chest and back of the t-shirt I gave her to wear. The boxers I loaned her are big, riding her hips, the bottoms skimming her creamy thighs.

  Holy shit, her nipples are poking at the front of the shirt. She isn’t wearing the bra she’d had on last night.

  She looks so hot. Damn, I want to drag her back to bed and tear those clothes off her.

  She smiles, bright eyes twinkling. She looks like she feels a thousand percent better. A relief. “The food smells delicious.”

  “Did the shower help?” I pull out her chair for her.

  “Yes. Most definitely.” She steps into place, and I lean in, inhaling the scents of my soap and the underlying decadent smell of her.

  Mouth-watering.

  “Good.” When she sits, I push in her chair before taking my own seat, next to her. She checks out the spread I’ve laid out. “Wow, you went to a lot of trouble. Thank you.” She picks up her fork. “And speaking of thank you…” she smiles again, and my heart practically soars to the moon. “Thank you for taking care of me last night. I don’t know why you were at that party, but it’s a good thing you were there. Or…I don’t know what
might have happened. I was such an idiot. Trusting those guys.”

  I nod. “I could tell you what would’ve happened, but you don’t want to hear it. I’m just glad you’re safe now. Safe and well.”

  “Me too.” She takes a taste of the eggs, her lush, thoroughly kissable lips curling into a sweet smile. “Mmmm. These are amazing. Why didn’t I know you could cook before now?”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

  Her brows lift. “Such as?”

  “After breakfast. Eat.”

  She nibbles on a piece of toast. “By the way, why were you at the party last night, Rob…bert?”

  I swallow a sigh. The little minx isn’t going to allow herself the luxury of enjoying her breakfast. She’s too curious to put aside the many questions that are humming through her head.

  It’s no use. I can’t put it off another minute, as much as I’d like to.

  Maybe it is better I get this over with?

  I swallow the eggs I’d shoveled into my mouth. “I went there because I knew you’d be there.”

  Her perfectly manicured brows furrow. “Me? Why? How did you know?”

  Crap, I’m going to blow this. I don’t know how to explain it, without sounding like a fucking stalker. “I wanted to make sure you would be safe.”

  “But how? How did you know I was going to a party?”

  “I didn’t. Not for sure. Carl told me there was a party last night. And he told me it was at the Washington Street house. We both know the reputations for parties there. We used to live in that house.”

  “Now that is something I didn’t know. I mean, yes, I know Carl and you went to my school. And he was an honors student. But beyond that I had no clue. I was too young to visit him without our parents.” She shakes her head. “So my brother asked you to go, just in case I went? He asked you to babysit me?” Her little face screws into scowl of anger. “Even a thousand miles away, he’s still trying to control me.”

  I couldn’t let her blame Carl. “No, he isn’t. He didn’t ask me to do anything.”

  “Ooookay.” She doesn’t sound, or look convinced. She shakes her head again. “Whatever. I guess it doesn’t matter. You were there. And in the end that was for the best.” She nibbles on the toast again. “I’d better be getting back to the dorm soon. I have some homework due on Monday.”

  Shit. She wants to leave already.

  “I was hoping we could spend some time together today.” Trying to look nonchalant, I wave my fork. “Since you’re here already.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Rob, since when do you want to hang out with me?”

  Since forever.

  “It’s been a while,” I reason.

  “True. But lately you’ve been a real dick.” She pokes her fork at my face.

  A real dick. Yeah, my dick is real.

  And it wants to be inside Taylor. Deep inside.

  “I’m sorry for being such an asshole. I…I was trying to do the right thing.”

  She blinks. Her eyes widen.

  Fuck. Now I’ve got her full attention.

  She isn’t smiling, though. She’s staring at me. Like I’ve sprouted a set of horns.

  “What do you mean?”

  Well, there, I’ve done it. I’ve hurled myself off the cliff.

  Might as well tell her everything.

  I push my plate away and stand, offering her a hand. She stares at it for a few gut-wrenching seconds, and I fear she’s about to tell me to fuck off. But then she sets her little hand in mine and follows me to the couch, where I sit, pulling her down with me.

  She gives me an expectant, raised-brow look.

  “I was trying to stay away from you because I…because I want you. And I know how Carl will feel about that.”

  “You…?” She blinks twice, shakes her head. “You?”

  Is it time to talk? Or time to not talk?

  Fuck talking.

  Acting on pure impulse, I cup the back of her head and pull, sealing my lips to hers for the first time.

  Oh fuck, she’s sweet.

  Like honey. Or the most delectable, juicy berry on the planet.

  More. I want more.

  My tongue sweeps along her lower lip and she opens to me. Deepening the kiss, I wrap my other arm around her waist and pull her curvy body flush with mine. I feel her soft tits pressed against my chest, and my dick goes instantly rock-hard.

  I’m ready to plunge into her moist heat, after just one kiss.

  But I won’t. Not yet. Not until she understands everything.

  Holy hell, my balls are tight.

  I break the kiss, dragging myself back so I can breathe.

  Her face is flushed, her heavy-lidded eyes dilated. Her mouth plump from my kiss. “Is something wrong?” A strand of hair falls into her face.

  I smooth it back, tucking it behind her ear. “No, not wrong. Not at all. I just need you to understand what I mean.”

  “I kind of think that kiss cleared things up…didn’t it?”

  “Not entirely.”

  She tips her head. “What do you mean? You didn’t want to kiss me?”

  “Yes, of course I did. But there’s more.”

  “What more?” She searches my eyes. “Is this about what I said last night at the party? Because I was sort of joking. I mean, I know you wouldn’t force yourself on me.”

  “That’s just it. That’s what I want to do. I want to throw you over my shoulder like a fucking Neanderthal, toss you on my bed, tear off your clothes and make you mine. And when I say mine, I mean it. Mine. Only mine.”

  Her lips part slightly and she audibly inhales.

  There, I’ve done it. I’ve gone too far. I’ve been too honest. I’ve fucked it all up by terrifying the poor girl.

  “Rob,” she whispers.

  My heart thumps so hard it’s going to fucking crack my breastbone. “Taylor?”

  “Yes.”

  I didn’t just hear right.

  Taylor didn’t just tell me she wants me to take her. To make her mine. All mine.

  I was hallucinating. Dreaming.

  “Rob?” She leans into me, those fucking perfect tits brushing against my chest again.

  I snap.

  I grab her by the shoulders and pin them to the couch.

  She wants me. She wants this.

  She’s going to get it! All of it.

  Her eyes widen.

  I smash my mouth over hers and shove my tongue inside her sweet depth. She kisses me back, her tongue gliding and writhing and tangling with mine. Her little whimpers and moans ignite blazes through my whole body. My blood pounds through my veins as heat swirls through me in waves. I shove a hand under her shirt—my shirt—and I grab one of her tits,--my tits--fondling it in my palm. Her nipple hardens, a pebbled little peak that makes me salivate. I don’t just want to taste her; I have to taste her.

  “Ohmygod,” she murmurs when I break the kiss to take a taste of her jaw.

  “You are the most beautiful girl in the world,” I tell her, meaning every word. I nip her neck and watch her skin pucker with goose bumps. She’s so fucking sensitive, so responsive. I can’t wait to see what happens when I draw her hard little nipple into my mouth…or when I flick my tongue over her clit.

  My balls throb at just the thought.

  “Rob…oh…” She lets her head loll to the side, stretching her slender neck for me and arches her spine, pushing her tit into my hand.

  “I’m the luckiest man in the world right now. Touching you. Kissing you. You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

  Her heavy eyelids drop over her eyes.

  My cock weeps in my pants, precum leaking, dampening my boxer briefs.

  I have to have her. All of her. It’s not a matter of if; it’s a matter of when. I owe it to her to make sure she’s ready.

  I will make her beg for it.

  I will make her scream as she tumbles head-over-heels in bliss.

  I will make her cum so hard she can barely m
ove when I’m done with her.

  And then I will make her every wish come true. I will spoil her with jewelry. Clothes. Anything her heart desires.

  I will treat her so good she’ll never want to leave me. Those things, I will do. Because she’s shared herself with me.

  I’m the luckiest bastard on the planet.

  And a fucking beast. A beast that is about to lose control.

  I slip off the couch, kneeling on the floor so I can see her. I push the t-shirt up, exposing her soft stomach, higher still. Her breasts are heavy. Natural. Her little nipples pink and hard. I wedge my body between her thighs and draw one into my mouth.

  Damn.

  Intoxicating.

  My balls are so tight I have to grit my teeth.

  She whimpers as I nip. She squirms and I brace an arm against her chest, holding her in place.

  She is not going anywhere.

  She’ll stay here, on my couch, and let me make her cum. As many times as I want. Then she’ll thank me.

  “Rob…Robert…” she murmurs. I love how she says my name. It sounds so fucking sexy in her husky fuck-me voice. “I can’t…” She rocks her hips forward, pressing her hot little cunt against my chest. The air grows heavy and fragrant with the musky-sweet smell of her need.

  Damn, I want to taste that.

  Soon. But not yet.

  I move to her other breast, licking, nipping, suckling while she writhes against me, grinding her hot cunt against my chest. With every little groan and whimper I wring from her, my control stretches thinner.

  It isn’t long before I’m working my way down her tight stomach to the waistband of her shorts. I lick the sensitive skin there, enjoying the way she twitches and wiggles and giggles. Her voice is a sexy mix of husky fuck-me woman and innocent girl.

  I am enthralled.

  Allowing myself to see her at last, I tug the elastic waistband down, over her hips, down her smooth thighs to her slender ankles. Then I toss them away and lean back to get a good, long look at my Taylor.

  Holy fuck.

  She’s sprawled on my couch now, head resting on the arm, long legs dangling off the cushion, arms lifted high, elbows bent, hands resting on the top of her head. The shirt is bunched under her chin, giving me a clear view of her tits and stomach. And lower, I see her neatly trimmed bush, so blond it’s barely visible.