Page 317 of Bad for Me

My heart pounded at the smooth way Alessio said that stupid term of endearment. He’d been patting the top of my head and calling me that ever since I can remember. As a child, I always hated it. Somewhere though, the disdain turned into butterflies fluttering in my stomach, heart pounding, toe curdling crush. And that crush turned into something more in the last year.

I knew how bad it was to find my father’s best friend so attractive, but I couldn’t help it. Not when he smelled so enticing. Fresh and spicy, just like a warm hug.

“Cara mia?” he called again when I didn’t respond.

I lick my lips, my throat suddenly dry. “No,” I whispered.

I wasn’t okay, and not because Ozzy was being a dick. I had been dealing with how much my brother loathed me ever since I was born. He once left me locked in my bedroom for eight hours with no food or water when I was six years old because Dad had left him in charge of me and I was breathing too heavily. He said the sound of my breaths made him want to slit his wrists.

Dad came home late that night from work and found me passed out, my head against the door, soaked in urine, cheeks crusted with dried tears. Dad beat Ozzy until his eye was bleeding. He was only nine.

Despite how cruel Ozzy was to me, how cruel he still was to me, I loved him. He was my brother. I take his ugly because one day he’d be all that was left.

My heart squeezed, and the burning in my eyes returned. I didn’t want to cry. I wanted to be the strong girl that Dad expected me to be. But he was . . . dead.

“No,” I said again, my voice coming out stronger that time. Alessio crushed me against his chest, a large hand wrapping into the locks of my hair as he held me. The intoxicating scent of his cologne invaded my nostrils, and my stomach tightened again. God, what was wrong with me? I’d just buried my father, and I was getting turned on just by the smell of someone I was not allowed to have. Someone I shouldn’t have wanted.

I peered up at him, watery eyes blurring my vision. “I’m all alone now.”

He shook his head. “Never, Hadley. You’ve got me and Ozzy.”

I squirmed against the strength of his touch. His words, the smooth sound of his voice, the heavy hold he had on me, took away the sting for a moment, and the way his brown eyes watched me with concern, how they held the promise that he wouldn’t leave me made my stomach tighten and my core clench around nothing. Slick arousal coated my panties.

This is wrong. Don’t do it.

I ignored the angel on my shoulder. Instead, I answered the devil. I lifted onto my toes, closed my eyes, and pressed my mouth to his. They were wet and warm and tasted like peppermint. My lips tingled, and I noticed he had menthol chapstick on.

Firm hands wrapped around my shoulder, and he shoved me away. “Hadley,” he rasped.

Regret fills his face, and I suddenly feel the need to throw up. I clasp my hand to my mouth. “Oh no,” I exclaimed. “I’m so sorry.”

Then, I ran out of the room, tears on the brim of release.

8

HADLEY

Alessio is kissing me.

Three years after I kissed him, his mouth is on mine. His tongue slides inside, and I suck in as much air as possible while clinging to him. He’s a murderer, but at this moment, all I feel for him is contentment. I’ve thought of his lips crushing against mine for as long as I can remember.

All the hate I have bottled up for him somehow dissipates as I melt against his touch. Now I hate myself for giving in and kissing him back. I cling to him, my nails digging through the fabric of his button-up shirt and into his chest.

He’s evil, yet I moan into his mouth. One of his hands glides between my thighs, cupping my pussy through the leggings I’m in. I don’t stop him. Not as his palm presses perfectly against me, creating friction that makes me whimper.

He rejected me, and I cried over him, but now here he is.

He pulls away, but not before taking my bottom lip between his teeth. “This is so wrong, Hadley,” Alessio says through heavy breaths. “So wrong, but fuck, I can’t lie to myself about it anymore.”

Me either. Still, he rejected me. He humiliated me, and he certainly doesn’t get to come into my life and kidnap me to take me back to Boston.Asshole.

His hand slips into my pants, and I let out a moan as he circles my entrance. I clutch at his shirt, holding onto him before my knees buckle beneath me. His name escapes my mouth in a soft plea, begging him to touch me more. I need more of the friction, more of his touch, more of the way my stomach heats with desire as I take in the feel and smell of him.

He continues to tease me, never giving me what I desperately need, only toying with me as he strokes my clit with a soft touch that only makes me squirm. He pulls his hand from my pants. Before I can protest, he’s shoving me against the couch and dropping to his knees between my spread thighs, yanking my clothes off.

“We can’t,” I moan, but my body betrays the words I’ve spoken as he enters me with two fingers. The sound of my arousal fills the air, and I relax my knees to give him full access.

“I’m going to fuck you, Hadley. And you’re going to take it. And when I’m finished making you come so hard you’re begging me to stop, I’m going to take you to bed and fuck you some more. Now shut up and take it like the naughty slut you are.”

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