Bully?
Standing outside a well-kept house, I can’t help but wonder what the hell I was thinking going to a stranger’s house. But it’s too late. I’ve already knocked and can’t leave now. My rideshare is gone.
I have no idea what to expect from the Bully trope, but I’m kind of just going down the list alphabetically in this category.
“Come in,” Thomas calls.
Stepping inside, I see a man wearing a leather jacket with a white tank top underneath and black jeans. He’s good looking, at least, if not a bit creepy. But it was either his place or mine, and I was not willing to risk letting him know where I live. Unless we hit it off.
Besides, if it goes badly, I don’t need Decker around to witness my humiliation.
The house itself is very nice. Beautifully decorated as though it was done professionally. It’s a place I could see myself living one day.
“Thomas. That’s my brother’s friend’s last name,” I say when he just stares at me from the stairs.
I’m not good at handling awkward silences, and I tend to try to fill them. It’s a flaw. And something that has been on every report card and yearly review since I was five. Struggles to stay quiet during silent times. Yep, I know.
“Shut up,” Thomas barks.
Surprised, I gape at him. “Excuse me?”
“Your hair color is stupid.”
I pull a chunk of hair in front of my face. It’s a pretty dark color. At least, I think so. I’ve never dyed my hair, and I’ve had plenty of people ask me where I get it done. “My hair color is stupid?”
“And you should lose five pounds.”
Glancing down, I wonder what he’s looking at specifically.
I’m not delusional. I know I’m thicker than I was in high school and college, but that’s what happens when you run on caffeine during the day and alcohol at night while dancing your ass off in high heels at a club.
Now, I eat real food and make sure I’m hydrated.
Like a normal, healthy adult.
“Um—”
“Your tits are great, though.”
At least there’s something he likes about me. “I don’t really have a response for that.”
“In a few years, they’ll droop down to your feet. You should probably get into topless modeling while you still can to have proof you used to have a decent rack.”
And now it’s turned into a creepy backhanded compliment. Insult? Yeah, it feels more like an insult. “Again, I’m not even sure what to say to that.”
“Take your top off, and I’ll take pictures for you. That way, there’s record for both of us to have that they were once fantastic. It’ll be an honor to show off the tits I rubbed my cock between.”
Woah, that took a drastic turn. “I’m good, thanks.”
“You’re good when I say you’re good,” Thomas says and gives me a smile. Or what I think is a smile. It looks more like a snarl, but that might just be his face.
“Thomas—”
“Your mouth is only useful when I’m shoving my dick in it and fucking it. Gagging you on my large cock.”
Eyes wide, I stare at him, making sure not to open my mouth in a gape like I normally would. The last thing this man needs is a better visual.
Is this what is typically in bully romance books? Have I never paid much attention to them before?
“Okay, then.”
“Did you get your outfit inspiration from a drag show? Who dresses like that other than hookers?”
Now, I’m just offended. I’m about to tell him what I think when my phone chimes.
DECKER: How’s the date going? Is he your Prince Charming?
ME: Not even close. Any chance you can pick me up?
DECKER: Send me your location.
“Those heels will only look good when they’re on either side of my head. Are you planning to go work the pole after riding mine?” Thomas asks.
Okay, that one is kind of a good insult line.
He begins stripping down, and before I realize what he’s doing, he’s in his boxers. I almost miss the small tent of his fly from his arousal.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Doesn’t insulting you turn you on? That’s why you chose the Bully category. Now, it’s time to get naked. Let me see those tits, bitch.”
“Yeah, no,” I say and turn around. “I’m going to take my hooker outfit and stripper heels home. Bye.”
“But—”
The door shuts behind me, and I hurry to stand out by the street to wait for Decker. I just pray he shows up before Thomas gets dressed and comes out trying to insult me back inside.
What the hell did I really expect? Not this, but I think I maybe should have. I’m not certain some of these men have even read a romance book to understand the tropes they’re signing up under.
Decker’s green Mustang pulls up to the curb. Rolling down the window, he looks concerned. “You okay?”
“Do I look like a drag queen dressed me?”
Lifting his sunglasses, he scans his eyes over me, lingering a moment or two too long on my chest. “Um… no?”
“That doesn’t sound convincing,” I say and walk around to get into the passenger side. “That was a bigger mistake than the biker.”
“You went out with a biker?”
“A fake biker.”
He snorts and pulls away from the curb just as Thomas steps onto the porch. “And him?”
“Bully.”
“Need me to beat him up?”
“No.”
“Tell me about the fake biker.”
I shake my head and rest it against the headrest. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“Wait, you chose to go to the house of a guy who claims to be a bully?”
“Don’t start. It’s the first and last time. Promise.”
“He said you look like a drag queen?”
I wish I never told him about this app. But if I hadn’t, I would’ve been outside on the curb waiting for a rideshare when Thomas came back out to berate me with crazy insults.
“Yeah. He did a weird combination of dirty talk and insults. Apparently, my tits are going to sag to the ground in a couple of years, so he wanted to take pictures to show proof they were once amazing.”
The way he laughs makes me want to smack him. Really, really hard. And I almost do when he asks, “Did you let him?”
“Fuck off,” I say, crossing my arms and pouting. “I should’ve expected this.”
“When you chose a date with a bully? Yeah, kind of.”
“You’re so not helpful. Or reassuring. I take back my comment from last night. You’d make a terrible boyfriend.”
“Better than that guy, it sounds,” he says and continues to laugh.
Decker’s dressed almost exactly the same as Thomas was, but he pulls off the look much better. I always hate when he wears jackets or long sleeves because I like staring at his sleeve tattoos. And his aviator glasses complete the bad boy look.
No wonder I’ve had a crush on him for a decade and a half.
“Thanks for the support,” I mumble.
“I’m sorry, Holly,” Decker says, but he doesn’t stop laughing.
“You don’t sound sorry.”
Clearing his throat, he tries his best to compose himself. “I just… Are you sure this dating app is going to give you what you want?”
“I have a better chance than swiping right for nothing more than a one-night stand. So what if I have to deal with a few frogs first?”
“I’ve met a lot of really great one-night stands on that app.”
I level him with a glare. “My point exactly. I don’t want just one night. Is it so wrong of me to want something solid? Someone who only wants me?”
“No,” he says, all humor gone. “No, it’s not wrong.”
“Just stupid, huh?”
Reaching over, he squeezes my knee. Damn it if that doesn’t send a jolt right to my core. “No, it’s not stupid. This app might be, but trying to use it to get what you want isn’t stupid. I should be more supportive.”
I hate how wet my panties are from being this close to Decker and having him touch my bare thigh. “Thank you.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve eaten yet.”
“No, although, he did think I would snack on, and I quote, big cock, which really wasn’t that impressive.”
We stop in front of a restaurant, and Decker turns to gape at me. “You saw him naked?”
“Almost. He stripped down to his boxers. Then looked confused when I wasn’t letting him ravage me after telling me my hair color is stupid and I need to lose weight. He had a chubby that was barely noticeable.”
“But he referred to himself as big?”
“Yeah, he was going to gag me with it. I really should’ve thought this one through before selecting it.”
He chuckles. “And the biker, too?”
“Okay, that one had potential. But he also offered to let me snack on a hot dog for dessert. If you know what I mean.” I roll my eyes and shake my head. “It has to get better. It just has to.”
He gets out of the car and walks around to my side, holding a hand out to help me out of the low sitting vehicle. It surprises the hell out of me. “I don’t even… There are no words for this, Holly. None.”
“You’re not used to being around girls who say more than, Oh, Decker! More, more, more! Throws you off your game a bit, doesn’t it?”
He winks. “You’d know what they say better than I would, you listening creep.”
“The walls are thin!” I exclaim as he opens the restaurant door for me. “And your headboard hits the wall with tremendous force. I’m surprised you haven’t broken through the drywall yet.”
“What can I say? I’m vigorous.”
I hate how that immediately puts visions of us together in my mind. I’d love to learn firsthand how vigorous he can be, but I need more.
“Yeah, sure,” I say and follow him to a table in the bar. “Whatever you say.”