The Best Bad Boy (Chapter Eight)

Lee led me down the hall. His bedroom was the last door on the left. He held it open. Inside was a thin mattress on the floor, a few items of clothing stashed in a corner that needed washed and a pair of shoes. Hung limply in the closet a modest amount of threadbare clothes, many of which showed holes.

I thought of all the tantrums I'd thrown about getting my sisters' handy downs and all the clothes sitting my closet I didn't wear because of floral patterns or some other nonsense. For the first time in my life, I realized I was a brat.

I grew up in the wealthiest part of town. Our house had a striking view of a pond and a golf course. It was two stories with rooms to spare. My mother, a bit neurotic when it came to cleaning, kept it immaculate. Lee didn't know all this and I was grateful.

It crossed my mind that where I lived and what I had, might have been part of why my classmates hated me.

Lachelle's home and mine differed greatly, in her house there was stuff everywhere. Toys, clothes, etc, so while it struck me, I was lucky not to have her parents, it hadn't quite driven home how lucky I was to have mine.

Lee's spartan room was a neon sign I needed to be grateful for all the things I enjoyed. The large dresser with an enormous mirror in my bedroom, the artwork and porcelain my parents bought to commemorate things like my baptism and the giant bookshelf filled top to bottom from one end to the other with every book I'd ever wanted. My dad put it together the month before I started preschool.

    

For my sixteenth birthday, my dad gave me an unabridged dictionary. It was the only thing I'd asked for but it was over eighty dollars. I'd thought then that not asking for a car because I didn't want to burden my parents financially any more than the divorce already had was grown up of me.

As Lee crossed to his mattress laying on the floor, it sunk in how much eighty dollars could do for my dad who was living in a storage unit.

"Something wrong?" Lee asked watching me.

Shame sat heavy in my stomach with guilt for taking so much for granted when he had so little, but I couldn't tell him that. "Uh, no. Nothing." I searched for something to compliment. "Your window is huge." The brightly lit room with white walls didn't suit him, but it was hard to imagine what would. Blood red velvet, black leather, and gothic lighting maybe.

Lee sat on the mattress, he leaned forward studying me. "Thanks." 

I walked around the room avoiding the bed. 

Lee waited. 

"How long have you lived here?" Nervous I looked anywhere but at him. 

Sheets rustled, "Not long. Are you going to sit down?" Lee got straight to the point. 

I sat on the floor beside the mattress. 

Lee did his best not to laugh at me. 

My cheeks heated. I'd only kissed one guy before. Lee, though he didn't say and I didn't ask, had fucked a lot. It was written in his every gesture and the way the girls whispered about him with knowing smirks. 

It didn't bother me. He was older and didn't have the same social handicaps I did or religious background. 

Once he was done with me, the vipers would wag their tongues taunting and teasing for a few weeks before moving on, but maybe it would be worth it. Only maybe it wouldn't. 

Sex was supposed to be life-changing and intimate. I'd already lost so much innocence, this one thing I wanted to keep just a little while longer. It was stupid but I wanted to be loved, even though I suspected it was impossible for a placebo. 

As a child, I discovered I wasn't real. I sat in front of the TV watching general conference with my parents. An apostle lectured about God's goodness and power then the prophet spoke about how it was better for a millstone to be hung around someone's neck and for them to be tossed in deep water than for them to hurt a little child. 

At the time there were people hurting me. Friends of the family, relatives, a neighbor. It was then I realized a good loving God would never let his child endure the torments I'd experienced. God in his infinite power made a fake human for others to hurt. 

I wasn't real.

I dug my fingers through Lee's thick carpet. Lee started playing with my hair. "Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked my gaze cemented on the toes of my sneakers. 

"Honey, I wouldn't be here with you if I had a girlfriend." The back of Lee's hand caressed the side of my face. "Is that what's bothering you?" 

I shook my head but kept my face turned away. Lee took hold of my chin. His hand gently begged me to look at him. Succumbing to the small request our eyes met. Drowning in a sea of turquoise, his thumb traced my bottom lip and breathing became impossible. 

I opened my mouth for air and Lee's thumb slid inside over my tongue. The slight taste of salt and cigarettes in my mouth mixed with him were irresistible. I licked. I sucked. 

His fingers swirled around my jaw my neck. He replaced his thumb with his finger pulling in and out imitating sex. Then he slid another finger inside my mouth and with his other hand took mine and put my fingers in his mouth. One by one, in and out of his hot mouth. 

I tried to imitate what he did. It felt impossibly good. His fingers delved deeper. Was he testing to see how far his dick could go in before I gagged? 

Slowly, I took his fingers inside my mouth. Our eyes locked, with each centimeter his pupils dilated a little more. I closed my lips over the last two knuckles and sucked. 

Lee gasped.

I moaned.