Trouble: A BWWM Bad-Boy Billionaire Romance (3 page)

I
whipped around
. "What?"

"I've always liked watching the muscles of your back move. Very sexy."

"You're drunk."

"I am not!" She hiccuped. "Okay, maybe a little."

I put on my shirt. "Move over."

She rolled over to her side of the bed, and I got into my bed.

This was the seventh circle of Dante's Hell. I knew that I couldn't touch her, but my dick did not agree. He was ready for action.

"Let's cuddle." She flung an arm over me.

Oh shit.

"Let's not." I put her arm back.

"What's wrong? Am I fat? Am I ugly?" She started crying.

Oh god, this was not good. I had no idea what to do when women cried. Normally I shut them up with my cock, but that wasn't going to work this time around.

"Shh," I soothed. Chris was going to kill me either way. "It's ok, look." I put her arm around me. "There we go. Better now."

She upped the game by wrapping her soft leg around me. I couldn't help it. My dick sought her like a heat-seeking missile.

I quickly flipped around so that she was the big spoon.

"You're the little spoon," she giggled. "That's nice."

Tell that to my boner. "Uh, yeah."

She brought her body closer to mine and flung her leg around me again. I shifted so that my dick didn't touch her.

Her face nuzzled my shoulder blades, and I simultaneously loved her and cursed her. One, it felt really good to have her soft body wrapped around mine. Two, I was going to get my ass handed to me by Chris. For sure.

"Do you like her?" Her voice was soft and very vulnerable.

"What? Who?" I had no idea to whom she was referring.

"Her. Samantha."

"She's okay, I guess." She wasn't terrible at kissing, and she was hot enough. She had that shade of red lipstick that screamed CRAZY, though, and wearing a crown was a red, flashing neon warning sign. Good for tonight, but I probably wouldn't even try again.

"I'm not like her."

A sorostitute? A conniving bitch? "No, you're not. And I like you the way you are."

"You like me?"

I winced at the hope in her voice. "Sweetheart, go to sleep."

"No," she said, her volume going up. "I want to know. Do you like me?"

I couldn't take it anymore. I turned around and pressed my dick into the sweet juncture between her soft thighs.

"What do you think?"

Without any hesitation at all, she gripped my dick through the soft cloth of my boxers in her little hand and tugged perfectly. My dick pulsed in her hand.

"Holy shit."

"I like this. I've never touched a penis before, you know. It's hard."

I was sweating. "Oh god." Don't come on Laila! Chris will not just murder you. He will resurrect you just so he can kill you again.

I closed my eyes tight, willing myself not to blow my load all over this curious and very drunk virgin girl.

"Please go to sleep." Oh god, I can't take this temptation.

Her hand stayed glued on my dick, but she yawned.

"Mmkay." Her eyes closed, and this time she really did fall asleep.

She was fast asleep, but her body was still wrapped around mine. Her hand was still touching my boxers.

After carefully disentangling myself, I went to my bathroom to deal with my woody. I took off my boxers roughly, pulling them down to my ankles. I stood over my toilet, and I pulled the seat up before I began jerking.

I closed my eyes. I thought about the sweet smell of her hair and how soft it was when it tickled my face while we shared a pillow. I remembered what her nearly naked body looked like when I took off her gold dress. I thought about my dick touching her sweet, untouched center.

I bit my lip as I got near my orgasm. I nearly broke the skin, I bit so hard. I flushed away the evidence of my masturbation, but I still had a semi. Down, boy, I thought. The idea of getting back into bed with her made me a little bit harder, even though I'd just let loose. It looked like once wasn't going to be enough.

This time, I went at it more angrily. Why wasn't my body satisfied with just once? That was more than enough for most of the girls I'd fucked and discarded.

I closed my eyes and thought about Laila riding my cock, her tits bouncing and her hair wild and free around her. Her head whipped around with the intensity of our mating, and she looked radiant, like a sex goddess. I watched her panting hard and heard dream Laila cry out as she came on top of me. The grasp of her tight pussy milked me over and over until I spurted everything I had into her body.

I opened my eyes. I flushed the toilet again and washed my hands. I was a sick, sick bastard. Also, I didn't have long to live.

I got into bed with her, and I faced outward, away from her. I was hyper-aware of her body and her breathing behind me. This was something that I'd wanted for a long time.

Be careful what you wish for. I chuckled. This was not what I expected to happen the first time that I brought Laila into my bed. But I was happy that she was here anyway, even if I would never tell her about it.

I
opened my eyes
. There was a trashcan in front of me, and I threw up. My mouth tasted vile.

I blinked a little. I wasn't in my dorm room with Andrea. I was in another bed. Oh my god, what did I do last night?

I felt around, and I was still clothed, although I was dressed in a blanket under a blanket.

I turned to look at the layers of blankets. Trouble was asleep beside me.

I sat up in an absolute panic. Oh my god, what happened?

I checked between my thighs, but there was no soreness. I hadn't had sex last night. I breathed a sigh of relief.

What had happened?

I saw my dress on a chair in the corner. I stripped, then I put it on. Where was my purse? That's right. I had left it with Andrea. Sneaking out quietly, I tried to latch Trouble's door, but it wouldn't close. It swung wide open with a long creaking sound. I flinched, because I didn't want him to wake up.

I walked out to his living room as quietly as possible. His roommates hadn't gone to sleep. They were playing video games on mute and eating pizza.

"Woo!" one of them said. "Looks like Trouble has a girl doing the walk of shame this morning. Yeah, girl!”

"Shut the fuck up, Trevor," came a deep voice from behind me. "It's too goddamn early for your shit."

I turned around, and all the blood drained from my face.

"It's not the walk of shame," Trouble announced. "I'm walking her home. God knows how many drunk assholes there are on the streets at this hour." He looked at his roommates pointedly. They just laughed.

"You want some pizza?" one of them said to me.

"No, I'm good, thanks."

Trouble opened the pizza box and stuffed an entire slice into his mouth. I don't know if he chewed. He just inhaled it. I shouldn't be surprised anymore, since Chris was pretty much the same, but the volume of food that swimmers ate was just insane.

"Let's go."

I looked down at him. "I don't mind seeing you in your boxers, but what about the early morning drunks?"

He looked down at his boxers. "Shit."

His roommate said, "Gonna give the girls a show, is that it?"

"Fuck off." Trouble went back into his room and put on pants. He came out looking hot as hell, his hair sticking up, as if we had spent the night making sweet love instead of sleeping off our hangovers.

"Let's go. I mean it this time."

His roommates went back to their video game, and Trouble walked me back across the street to my dorm.

"We have to call Andrea to get you in. You don't have your keys." He sighed. "But before we do that, we have to talk."

"Okay." Wasn't that my line?

"How much do you remember of last night?"

"Um, I went to a party with Andrea, but I was super uncomfortable because she was practically fucking this one guy, so I went to go find you, but you were kissing Samantha, and I started drinking...it's really fuzzy after that."

"Fuzzy how?"

"Fuzzy, like I don't remember anything between drinking my first shot of vodka and spewing the vodka up this morning."

I saw his whole body relax. "Okay."

"Why? What happened last night?"

"Nothing."

"The look on your face says that it's something. What went on last night? How did I end up in your bed?"

"I had to take care of you. You were sloppy drunk. You don't have any tolerance, you know. You can't drink that much. Some guy was trying to take advantage of you last night. That's why you woke up in my bed."

I was a little bit sad, because that means that drunk Laila did not seduce Trouble into taking her home last night. Trouble did just what Chris would. I hated myself, because I had pushed him even harder into the big brother role that I wanted to get him out of.

"So, um." I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Thank you for taking care of me last night."

"No problem," he said, his eyes on the ground. "I'm just glad you're safe. Bye."

He walked away, and my heart was breaking a little bit. I had wanted to be with him for so long, and I had finally gotten my wish. But I didn't remember it at all, and apparently most of the whole night with him was vomiting up vodka.

I swore then and there not to drink any vodka anymore. It was not good for me, and it had made what should have been the best night of my life one of the worst.

T
rouble didn't talk
to me for months after I woke up in his bed. Bits and pieces came back to me in dreams, although I wasn't sure if the erotic parts were part of my fantasies or if they were real. Had I felt his dick grow to the size of a Red Bull can? Had he pushed it into me while our clothes were still on? I didn't know.

Andrea was in our room with her boyfriend all the time. She saw how mopey I was. I was getting better grades than her, but one day, she walked over to me while I was writing an essay for my literature class.

"You have a whopping case of sexual frustration."

"Oh my god. Just because I'm not fucking some guy 24/7 does not mean that I have a whopping case of sexual frustration,” I snapped.

"Sweetie, your nails are bitten down the quick. You don't go out anymore. We're going to get you a vibrator."

I blinked and looked at my nails. "I've never had one of those."

"I'm going to get lingerie tonight. You're getting a vibrator and some rechargeable batteries. Come on."

"But I have to finish my homework."

"Later, babe. Let's go."

We went down to my car, and we drove around the corner to a sex shop. I had passed the mannequins wearing lingerie, and I had always wondered what was inside.

Inside was a wonderland of sex stuff. They had sex aids, sex toys, skimpy costumes, stripper heels, and anything and everything that you'd possibly want.

"Hello! How can I help you?" There was a very pretty retail assistant bounding over to us.

Andrea pointed at me. "She needs a vibrator."

The assistant took a look at my badly bitten nails.

"I can see that. What kind do you want?"

I squeaked. "Oh my goodness. I just don't know."

She took me to a wall of sex toys. My eyes were wide. I'd never seen even one sex toy in real life, let alone dozens upon dozens, all promising different things on their packaging.

"What looks good to you?"

"I have no idea." I looked at her. "Please choose something for me."

"You're a virgin?" She looked me up and down. "You're a virgin."

"How do you know?"

"It's in the way that you're carrying yourself. I can see that you've never been in a sex shop before."

"How do you know?"

"Your back is stiff, and your arms are curled around yourself protectively." I looked down. My arms were wrapped around myself. I loosened them up and put them down at my sides.

"Right, so we're not going to go with the 10-inch light-up black vibrating dildo for you."

"No!" My eyes were all the way wide. "No."

"Yeah, let's just start you with something really small. Let's do this one."

I looked at the package that she gave me. It was pink.

"What's a clitoral motor?"

I could see her holding back from rolling her eyes at me. "It's another motor in another part of the vibrator to stimulate your clitoris."

"Oh!" I blinked. "And that's good."

She smiled at me. "It's very good. That's why I'd choose this vibrator for a complete beginner."

"I'll take it, then."

While the lady was taking me around to show me vibrators, Andrea was trying on piece after piece of lingerie. She bought a Playboy bunny costume, complete with ears. It had a huge bunny logo on it. She also bought a dark purple lace bra and thong which were totally see-through, as well as some harlot-red short skirts that showed more than they concealed.

"Those aren't skirts," I told her. "Those are belts. Or loincloths."

"Hot, right?" Andrea took it as a compliment. "I can't wait to show David these. I hope he rips them off of me."

It looked like she was going to be having even more sex. The lady helped us out at the register. Andrea spent an eye-watering amount of money on lingerie that was going to be ripped in another day or two. I didn't pay that much money for my little vibrator.

We drove back home. Right as I found a parking spot, Andrea's phone rang.

I
could only hear
one side of the conversation.

"Hello?"

"Yeah." She got out of the car and started walking towards our dorm. I put up my sunshades and locked my car. I walked behind her, and she held the outside door open for me. "Yeah, I can do that. I bought something you will like." I could hear the smile in her voice. "Mhm, a lot, that's right."

Ugh. I knew a lot more about her sex life than I really wanted to know.

"See you tonight!" She hung up the phone.

"David's picking me up to go to a concert at the Los Angeles Philharmonic in an hour! What should I wear?"

"Your LBD, of course." Her little black dress was a Versalette, and it could do anything. It could convert into 30 different styles of dresses.

"I'm going to wear my purple lingerie underneath!"

Yeah, it was going to end up ripped in less than a day. Money down the drain, but I guess that she thought that it was worth the cost. "Okay."

"What makeup should I wear?"

"It's fall, so maybe some natural gold and brown shades?"

"Good idea." She took that part of her eyeshadow palette and did a triple layer, with just a little black around the edges to contour. When she was done, she turned to me. "How do I look?"

"Stunning." Her eyes were her best feature, although they competed fiercely with her naturally stick-straight hair. She pulled it into a French braid, and she looked prettier than I could ever be. The Versalette wasn't haute couture, but anything that she ever put on was haute couture.

She shortened the skirt of her dress.

"Oh my god, Andrea. People can see your hooha. Your dress is so short!”

"You think?" She giggled. She tugged her dress down a half inch. "There. That'll be enough."

"You are going to be flashing ass when you get into the car," I warned. "How about putting on shorts or something?"

"Nah," she said, tugging her dress so that it was a few inches longer. "Better?"

"Good." She still was revealing a lot of smooth, cellulite-free tan thigh, but at least this way the whole world wouldn't know about the lingerie she bought today. She cut off the tags and put on the lingerie, completely not caring that I could see her bare breasts. I closed my eyes. I'd learned early on that she was a bit of an exhibitionist. With a perfect body like hers, with all the curves in the right, perfect places, she didn't have to be as self conscious as I did. Well, after I'd shot up a few inches in Spain, I wasn't the squishy little thing that I'd been before. I still wasn't a beanpole, though, and she was thinner than me.

She undid her braid, then she flat-ironed her hair, even though it was already straight. It looked absolutely fantastic, making a solid blonde sheet straight down her back.

"You're going to be the most beautiful woman there," I told her, as she took out her iPhone and waited for a text or call from David.

"You think?" she said, looking up. She beamed at me. "That's why I keep you around, you flatterer."

I shrugged. "It isn't flattery if it's true."

Her phone vibrated, the screen lighting up.

"He's here." She smoothed her hair and looked in her mirror. "I'm going now."

"Go get 'em tiger. Have fun at the Philharmonic."

She gave me a wave as she went out the door in her sky-high heels.