Chapter 7 #3
Knowledge sank in and Bug immediately stood up. He gave us a salute as he walked backward toward the door. “I’ll be back in two. You seem like a two-minute man.”
Bonham flipped him the bird as he made his exit.
Now alone, Bonham turned on me, eyes ignited in heat.
I wasn’t sure who attacked who first, but somehow our bodies collided and our shirts hit the floor. Unlike his brother’s pale complexion, Bonham’s skin held a slight tan and was burning hot and oh-so delicious looking with the cheeky tattoo on his hip.
Oh, I would enjoy all right.
We were still standing as Bonham’s lips traveled from mine to my throat, down my chest, and to my stomach. When he was on his knees before me, giving me a daring look, I just about keeled over.
He licked at the flesh of my belly, grinning as his teeth sank into my skin, nibbling on me. All too soon he was on his feet, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close into him where I could feel his hardness building. His mouth stole mine for just a moment before he pulled away.
“We won’t be a fairy tale, pirate, but I can promise you the best time,” he told me.
Now I was pulling away. “Fairy tales are bullshit.”
Bonham cocked a brow. “Not a fan of Disney?”
It was more the other way around. “I’m a fan of reality. Society makes these fairy tales where the girl has to be pretty, nice, and meek, and a damn goody-goody to be the princess,” I went on. I held up the bottle of Jim Beam for emphasis. “I’m nobody’s princess.”
Bonham watched me, purely amused. “No?”
I thought of Kevin and everyone else in my life. “Happy endings don’t exist, it’s all about now.”
Bonham studied me. “You’ve been hurt before, huh?”
I tipped the bottle back, drinking more of the liquor. “Life fucks us all.”
Bonham stood back, smiling at me with a drunken gleam in his eye. He reached up, acquiring all of his hair and securing it in a very serious man-bun.
God, I loved his hair. Wild hair like his deserved to be free.
I reached up to free it from the navy-blue band he used to keep it in place.
Bonham caught my wrist, beaming down at me. “What are you doing?”
“I want it free.”
He gestured to his mass of wavy locks. “This?”
I nodded, seemingly in a trance the longer I looked at him. “Yeah.”
Bonham freed his hair, going and taking mine in his hands and preparing to give me a bun.
The look in his eye as he went to work on me was handsome and intent.
I didn’t believe for a second that Bonham was truly who everyone else painted him as.
He was probably just like me, wild, untamable, and not meant to follow all the rules.
I couldn’t love him, nor could I ever date him.
We would be a disaster.
People always leave, and Bonham was the leaving type.
He didn’t have to sweet talk me or pre-warn me that we wouldn’t be a fairy tale. Things like that weren’t my style, so it was easy to swallow the truth of the matter of it never happening. Dreams were for the weak and hopeful, not the ones who knew the harsh and bitter truth of life.
Prince Charming could go fuck himself.
Bonham draped his arms across my shoulders after finishing his task. “There.”
“It’s either the Beam or the weed, but you’re not so bad,” I told him.
His face split into this incredibly sexy grin that sent heat between my legs and left my knees going weak.
“You’re different, man, I can just tell,” Bonham came and whispered in my ear.
I should’ve let him take me right then and there, but I had to open my great big mouth. “So are you.”
Bonham bobbed his head. “I’m whatever you all want me to be.”
“And what’s that?”
“The guy who does what he wants because he ‘doesn’t follow the rules.’ The guy who has no future. The guy who has to settle for girls like you because everyone else turns their noses up.”
His words almost passed me by, until a few of them stuck. “What do you mean girls like me?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but Cameron’s…a good girl. You, you’re much more aware of yourself. If a guy crossed you, you’d probably cut his balls or something. Cameron would probably try to bring him to Jesus or whatever.”
I was pretty fucking wasted, but I was lucid enough to discern that Bonham was in love with Cameron. I mean, how could he not be? She was ideal: beautiful, caring, kind, and not up to messing around to pass the time. She’d probably want her first time to be special like nice girls often did.
I wasn’t like Cameron.
Girls like me…did things like what I was doing.
I was just a girl with a pretty face and an ugly soul. Nothing special to write home about.
Girls like me.
“Cameron’s what all guys dream about,” Bonham was saying. “But when you’re me, you don’t get a chance because girls in her position think you’re shit. I probably am shit, but I’d be pretty good.” He added his next line so low it sounded like a deep seeded wish of his. “For her.”
If ever there were a reality of fairy tales and princesses, Cameron Camburn was the quintessential girl to fit the bill.
I should’ve been offended, or felt some way.
Instead, I didn’t give a shit. I grabbed my bottle and tilted my head back, and pretty soon, I was gone.