“Why do the good girls always want the bad boys?”
(No Doubt’s song BATHWATER by G. Stefani, T. Kanal, T. Dumont)
Gracie curled up close to her fiancé Matthew. She watched as he slept and smiled. She was blissfully happy. She was about to turn 22 and Matthew was 25. They had met two years ago in a small restaurant where Gracie had been waitressing to pay her way through UCLA. Matthew had been finishing up his J.D. while she was working on her Bachelor’s.
Gracie was a cute brunette at about 5 feet 5 inches tall with lovely hazel green eyes. She was slim and trim with pert breasts and an easy smile.
Matthew was the baby of his family with two older sisters and an eldest brother. He took after his mother with blonde hair and blue eyes standing at under 6 feet tall.
Gracie liked to joke that he was the model for the Carpenter’s song “So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair and golden starlight in your eyes of blue” for all that he looked like a Greek God. He was a living Ken doll with a personality to match. He was sweet, attentive and loving. Gracie’s only complaint, which she would never have dared to voice, was their love life. Sex was brief and quick with little foreplay and no oral sex on either end. He didn’t like to receive or give and so theirs was like an old married couple when they had yet to be honeymooners.
Gracie adored his family. His mother Jane and sisters Sarah and Jenny were all sweet caring women with his father William was a proud and strong man who had made a fortune in the real estate market of the 1980’s and 90s. They owned a large mansion in Bel Air and Gracie adored it. Gracie had yet to meet the eldest brother Michael who was visiting relatives in England. They were getting married in two months so she assumed she would meet the elusive brother before the time had come to walk down the aisle.
Gracie was involved with the marriage plans and Jane helped out a great deal. Gracie was an only child whose mother and father had long since divorced. Her mother would be flying in but not until the wedding date. Her father had disappeared years ago.
Gracie wore a cool linen dress of pink dotted with dark lavender flowers. Her shoulder length chestnut hair was pulled up into a small ponytail as she walked the extensive grounds in the estate. She was so happy and at peace that she felt it was a dream. She had always lived paycheck-to-paycheck and so alone that Matthew was like a godsend.
She made her way back into the house and grabbed her bag to attend some errands with Jane. Jane and Gracie split their errands and each went their separate way in the small main street in Bel Air. Gracie walked into the old fashioned hardware store and looked for the items she needed. She heard two men catching up on old times at the front of the store and smiled. It was like Maywood, USA here, she thought.
She picked up the item to examine it and dropped it accidentally. She picked it up off the floor and whirled around to replace it on the shelf.
“Excuse me, miss.” Said the stranger she completely collided into.
Gracie had not seen him approach and flushed as she had dropped the item again and was flush against a stranger.
“Allow me.” He retrieved the item and replaced it properly brushing into her body with no reason other than to be insolent.
Gracie examined him as he did and blushed. He was almost sinful. A man should never be so dark and good looking. He was like a dark angel. He was taller than Matthew with jet-black hair and smoldering dark eyes. His eyes were either dark blue or brown and the way he looked at her was wrong. He followed along the line of her frame starting at her chestnut hair, down her pert breasts, trim waist and down her long legs.
Jesus, he thought. What a nice little piece! He swallowed once and then returned his gaze to her face. A sweet little face with hazel eyes staring black holes into his skull. Her sweet face contradicted a hidden temper that probably smoldered.
He grinned and his smile was worse than any grimace. He looked dangerous. Gracie’s heart thudded.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?” She asked thoughtfully wanting to hear his inane reply.
He shrugged his shoulders. “For brushing against you.”
“Well I hope you enjoyed it.” She told him tartly.
“Why?” He asked seriously confused.
“Getting your jollies off accidentally brushing up against women. It will be the last time you do so to me, so I just hope you enjoyed it.” She told him staring up into his dark eyes.
She clutched her purse and suddenly realized her was chuckling.
She glared at him and he sneered back.
“No.” He shook his head slowly. “I don’t get my jollies off brushing up against innocent, harmless women.” He said the words so slowly that he made it seem as if Gracie’s complaint was silly and juvenile. Gracie stared at the stranger irritated at herself. Why had she made such a big deal of it? Was it the wedding nerves? Was she angry with Matthew for last night? It had been a lovely evening and then he had rolled over and without a kiss or touch gone to sleep. Was this the beginning of a dismal, passé life?
Was this sinfully good looking man having a bad effect on her or was she irritated because a part of her wanted him and it was too late now? What was wrong with her?
“No.” He continued to speak pulling her out of her self-loathing dialogue with herself.
“I get my jollies of the old-fashioned, red-blooded American male way.” With that, the dark stranger pulled Gracie completely into his arms and his mouth took hers. And it wasn’t a sweet, kind kiss. It wasn’t a passionate kiss such as lovers have. It was a sinful wicked kiss just as Gracie surmised it would have been. His hands came up to her face and his tongue delved into her mouth again and again. His one hand moved over her breasts and pushed her small ass into his hard erection. He pulled her ponytail out and her hair fell around them both. His mouth came upon hers again and again and his tongue raped her mouth.
God, she was sweet, he thought. Like a small cherry, he wanted to suck and suck on her mouth forever. Her hair smelled of shampoo and it wafted around them both. Her pert little breasts were a small handful and he delved into the dress. He wanted her right now. He didn’t care, could care less – if she was married, had five kids, was a lunatic…he wanted to feel her tight little pussy surround his cock. It was rock hard and needed her – now. He moved to her small ass and pushed her again into his cock. His jeans concealed his erection but enough to where she could feel the ridge of it.
Gracie wanted to die of shame and die of lust. She could feel the emotions whirling around her. He was no angel. If he was, he was Satan’s angel - Lucifer himself in the flesh. No man should make a woman feel this good, this amazing, floating on air. She cringed inwardly. Matthew for all that she loved and cared about him – had never made her blood sing this way. God, it was wrong. His hands roamed her body and her mouth was his. She wanted him. She could feel her pussy’s wetness in readiness and anticipation for sex. She almost cried aloud. What was she doing? She was making out with a total stranger in a hardware store for christ’s sake! She broke away from him and slapped him across the face.
He only grinned and smiled. Gracie already hated those sensuous lips in that perfect face.
“Is that the price I pay for a kiss? I’ll gladly pay it and more.” He taunted her.
Gracie gritted her teeth and turned away from him determined to leave this place and the odious man.
“Whoa whoa whoa. What a minute! I don’t know your name or your number. Give me another chance – “
“To what? Maul me?” Gracie countered. She hated his arrogance and his dominating manner.
“I lost my head, I'm sorry.” He told her sincerely.
“Kindly step aside. I’m late for an engagement.” Gracie thought of Jane waiting at the corner coffee shop for her.
“Your husband?” He asked softly.
“No.” Gracie lowered her eyes.
He watched her little bow mouth as she struggled for composure. She was lovely in an unsettling way. She didn’t use tricks or pleas, didn’t make herself up like a clown. She had beauty and sweetness and he wanted her. Had to have her.
“I have to see you again.” He told her.
“Do you make it a habit of picking up women in the hardware store, Mr. – Mr.-?” Gracie asked him not really caring about the answer.
“No, never.” He shook his head. His arrogance fading as he watched her lips move.
“Kindly step aside. I’m late and I have no wish to see you again. Ever.” She skirted him and was outside the door before he could follow her. When he made his way outside, she was gone.
Damn! He thought.
