Page 1 of The Bad Boy Rule

ONE

SAINT

“God, you are such amotherfucker, Saint Devereaux.”

Apparently, this is only a revelation to the naked blonde standing in front of me, who’s still wiping my cum off her face.

She knew exactly what this was, or what it wasn’t. It’s not my fault she didn’t listen when I told her.

It’s simple.

I don’t do sleepovers, I don’t kiss, I don’t cuddle.

I’m not the guy who’s going to tell you everything you wanna hear, the one you take home to your parents or tell all your girlfriends about.

I’m the guy who fucks you better than you’ve ever been fucked.

I’m the guy you’ll think about months later when you’re taking it missionary from a finance bro that lasts three minutes and couldn’t make you come even if histrust funddepended on it.

I leave a lasting impression, and it’s in the shape of my cock.

That’s the one and only promise you’ll get from me. “Damn,” I tut as I slide off her bed onto the furry pink rug on the dormroom floor. “That’s the thanks I get for making you come two, no…threetimes?”

I swipe my T-shirt off the floor and drag it over my head. Everything in this room is so goddamn pink that it’s giving me a headache, so the sooner I can get out of here, the better.

“You literally just came on my face, and now you’re… leaving. Just like that?” she mumbles with a furrowed brow.

If I wasn’t an asshole and I hadn’t told her the score before sticking my dick in her, I might feel bad.

But unfortunately for her, Iam, in fact, an asshole, and Iam, in fact, leaving.

I quickly drag my sweatpants up my hips, grab my phone off the nightstand along with my keys before shoving them in my pocket, then turning back to her. “Just like that. I thought you understood what this was. Sorry that you didn’t. Was fun though, yeah?”

Tossing her a smirk and taking one last look at her perky, full tits that undoubtedly are what got me into this shit in the first place, I brush past her toward the door.

“I should have listened to everything they said about you.” Her words are thrown at me, dripping with venom, like they’re meant to wound, but they fall flat.

Because I don’t give a fuck what she or anyone thinks about me, and I never have.

I jerk my gaze back over my shoulder at her, the corner of my lip curving into a half grin, half sneer that makes her eyes burn even brighter with anger. “Yeah, probably should have. But whatever they said? I’m so much fucking worse.”

I don’t wait for her to respond before wrenching the door open and slipping outside. The second that I shut it behind me, there’s a loud thud of something heavy slamming against it and a high-pitched screech from the other side.

Yeah, I’ve gotta chill with the hookups for a while because as much as I love getting my dick sucked, this shit has been a headache, and I’ve got enough headache-worthy shit in my life as it is.

And then some.

Speaking of headaches, I pull my phone out of my pocket, glancing down at the screen and seeing the time.

Goddamnit.

Now I’m going to be late, and I can’t be late.

I can’t afford to.

It takesthirty minutes to get through campus traffic to the other side of town, and I’m late as fuck. I pull my bike into the last open bay of Tommy’s Garage and cut the engine.

Generally, I’d leave it parked outside, but I know better. Growing up here, I learned quickly that this isn’t the part of NOLA where you leave your shit outside at night and expect it to still be there in the morning.

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