Page 102 of Bad Boy
“Dad. Please. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” I plead, trying to placate him, even though I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve had to walk on eggshells around him lately, and I should’ve known better than to disagree with him just now.
We’re getting closer to the steep concrete stairs, and I’m starting to freak out about what he’s doing. He usually just smacks me upside the head or punches me in the stomach. I dig my heels into the ground, bare feet scraping against the rough cement. “Please, Dad. Stop!”
He grunts at the force required to drag his sixteen-year-old son against his will. “I. Said. Go. Sleep. In. The. . .” and then I’m airborne as he drunkenly shouts the word “Car!” at my flailing body.
There’s a millisecond when my brain computes what is about to happen, and I twist just enough for my arm to take the brunt of the fall instead of the back of my head.
Crack!
Pain radiates up my left arm in hot, stinging waves. The burning agony pulses from the tips of my fingers to the top of my shoulder, and I cry out sharply, gasping for air.
I make the mistake of looking down at my unnaturally angled arm. My eyes bulge at the gruesome sight, and my mouth waters with the need to empty my stomach.
I stare at the brown water stains peppering the crumbling ceiling as spiders and moths continue on with their nightly business, completely oblivious to the boy lying in shock at the bottom of the stairs.
The pain is starting to wear off, or maybe I’m just going numb. I sit up and scoot back, cradling my fractured arm to my chest until I lean against the wall. I don’t even have a phone to call for help.
Or shoes.
Maybe if I just rest my eyes. . .
* * *
A soft hand cups my cheek. “Open your eyes, Rem. Let me see you.”
My eyelids slowly flutter open, blinking at the moisture on my lashes. A few droplets fall, andfuck, I’m not sure if I’ve ever cried in front of another person before. But the shame and anxiety I expect aren’t there as I peer through waterlogged eyes at the amazing soul in front of me. I turn my head and nuzzle into his hand, kissing his palm.
“Linc,” I rasp, voice horse from a long overdue release of emotions.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispers, and the endearment makes my stomach bottom out.
“I’m so fuckin’ sorry that happened to you,” he curses, running his hand down my neck and over my shoulders. “That you had to suffer that much. In silence, too.”
There’s a heavy pause—the air thick between us. He’s also suffered in silence, in his own way. His controlling parents. The bullies. The isolation. The loneliness. It’s probably why we connected so instantly. We’re kindred spirits, and I’m never fucking letting him go.
“Thank you for openin’ up to me. I want you to know that you can tell me anything.Anything, Remi. And I’ll be there for you because no one has ever cared for me the way you have. No one has everseenme the way you have. Truly and completely.”
Fuck. I fall hard and complete—somewhere far away. I swear all I’ll ever need is the light emanating from Lincoln, from his heart and soul. With every passionate moment and traded truth, we become more entwined. There’s no going back. He’s mine. I fuckinglovehim.
I lean forward and slam my lips to his, needing to forget every grizzly detail that just flew through my mind.
“I need you,” I say urgently, and he moans into my mouth, thrusting his hips forward, trying to grind his dick against mine.
I roll him to his back, peeling our underwear off before I crawl between his spread thighs, and we’re skin to skin. I’m careful not to pull at the wound in my side too much as I lower my body on top of his. “I need to be inside you, baby,” I rasp, and I can hear the torment in my voice.
“Yes. Please,” he moans into my mouth. We’re breathing each other’s air as we kiss desperately. My dick is so hard I’m about to bust, so I peel my lips away, panting heavily.
“Wait. You’re hurt, though,” he says in a strained whisper. I know he wants this as bad as I do.
“Don’t care,” I grunt, and it’s not just my dick taking control; it’s my heart, too. Ireallyneed him right now.
“I do.” The barely-audible words sweep through me, warming my soul and stealing my breath.
“I know, baby.” I rest my forehead against his. “I know. I’ll be careful.”
Linc reaches over and grabs the lube from the bedside drawer, handing it to me. I squirt more than I need onto my fingers, and he grabs behind his knees, holding his legs back and open. Pleasure floods my veins at the sight of his tight hole on display for me, his cock thick and engorged, jutting straight up from his hips.
I lean down, giving his flushed cock a soft swipe of my tongue, swirling around his sensitive head. He twitches, and I smirk, focusing on what I want to play with. His ass.
