Fantasy Boyfriend #2 (A Tattooed Bad Boy Romance) Read online

  My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach and my mouth grew dry. He leaned slightly back, now clasping her hand on top of the table, caressing her knuckles with his thumb, an incredibly sexy gesture that I felt in the pit of my stomach. In spite of my anger and embarrassment with the way Luke had treated me, I once again imagined the touch of his own hands on my breasts, the feel of his warm lips against mine.

  Despite myself, I paused and watched as she continued to smile at him and then suggestively wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. She was hungry for him, just like I had been. Could I blame her? Not really. Still, I couldn't believe it. What the hell? Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, I felt a great surge of hurt and disappointment. Unbidden, I felt warm tears fill my eyes. Utterly humiliated and embarrassed, I left the restaurant, my head down, swallowing against the pain of being used so callously.

  Chapter 3

  A couple of days passed without event. I slowly got back to what I considered normal. And of course, every time I'd thought of Luke, I felt conflicted. I felt sexually attracted to him and couldn't stop those feelings from taking over before my common sense kicked in. Every time I thought of Luke, I thought of his warm lips, his silky tongue, the feel of his hands on my nipples, the feel of him inside me, carrying me toward the greatest sexual ecstasy that I had ever experienced. Too bad he was such a jerk.

  Actually, it was that aspect of Luke Bradford that I found so confusing. On the one hand, he was the epitome of a charismatic, suave, and gentlemanly figure who was not only sexually experienced, but quite adept at pleasing a woman. On the other hand, it was now obvious that he cared little for other people's feelings. That was extremely disappointing because he did have so much going for him. I still couldn't figure out why I hadn't heard from him in just about a week now. Even if he wasn't interested in me, I could've taken it if he had sent me a brush off note – anything. All he had to do was say so. But to have sex with me like that, as passionately as he had and then not to even offer a word or an explanation through a text message or voicemail? Not that there was any relationship to break up from, because as far as I was concerned, one date did not equate to a relationship. So what kind of relationship had I had with him?

  After the night at the restaurant when I had seen Luke with that gorgeous woman, who certainly seemed older than any college student I had ever met, I had a desperately tried to shove him out of my thoughts. Why he wouldn't just go away and leave my brain cells alone was a conundrum. Surely, I couldn't be attracted to such a callous, unfeeling, and rude guy, could I? Well, that was kind of oblivious of me, I thought. I obviously was.

  At any rate, I continued to try to focus on my classes, complete my homework, and look forward instead of backward. At the moment, I was walking to my early morning advanced chemistry class and trying to mentally prepare myself for my first exam. I hoped I was ready and could stay focused long enough to take the test without thoughts of Luke invading and interrupting that focus.

  I wasn't surprised when class started and the test paper was handed out and there was still no sign of Luke. He hadn't been to the advanced chemistry class in nearly a week and I wondered if he had dropped it. What, had he just been trolling around different classes, looking for an easy mark like me? I shook my head. Don't fool or flatter yourself, I scolded myself. I was no more special than any other woman on campus, including the gorgeous one that I'd seen them with the restaurant the other evening. He was obviously playing the field, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I had no claims on him, and I realized that, but at the same time I didn't like to feel used.

  Advanced chemistry passed without event. I think I did okay on the exam, even though I had been distracted by my wayward thoughts. A couple more classes and I would have my lunch break. I pretty much stayed by myself most of the day, not even joining my friends for lunch like I usually did when we all had a break between classes at the same time, which was rare enough.

  My first class after lunch was a nursing fundamentals class. I tried to focus, but was finding it increasingly difficult. Why couldn't I shake it? Why couldn’t I shake Luke and images of him and those tattoos from my mind? Since that didn’t seem likely to happen, I didn't know what I was going to do about it. Actually, what I wanted to do was confront Luke, tell him what a jerk he was, but since he was nowhere to be found, I couldn't even do that. Besides, what good would that do? It wouldn't matter one iota to someone like him, but for me? It could be cathartic and help me get past my funk. I wasn't used to confrontations, and I certainly didn't go looking for trouble or pick arguments with people, but sometimes, something needed to be said. And boy, did I have a lot to say!

  "You in there?"

  I found myself standing in front of the nursing fundamentals classroom, blocking people's way. A few irritated glances passed my way, and then I realized that Vivian, one of the girls I had met in this class last week, was speaking to me. She was a nice girl, dedicated to her ambition in becoming a surgical nurse. "Oh hey, Vivian, sorry about that." I followed her into the classroom and we sat together near the back corner.

  "You've been pretty distracted the last couple of days."

  It wasn't a question. It was a comment. I could only shrug in agreement. "I guess you could say that."

  “Rumor has it that you went out with Luke Bradford last weekend."

  I nodded. No sense in denying it.

  "Everyone knows he's a womanizer," she commented.

  I looked at her, eyebrow raised.

  "Oh, don't misunderstand, I didn't go out with the guy," she said, shaking her head with a look of distaste. "While he certainly is something to look at, his reputation precedes him."

  Reputation? How come I had never heard of Luke Bradford before the first day of class? I frowned. "Isn't he new to the school?"

  "Well, sort of. From what I understand, he did take his freshman year here and then last year he attended part of a semester before he up and disappeared. Now he's back again. But I'll tell you one thing, he does have the reputation of being a player and a womanizer."

  I gathered that much based on my own experiences. Vivian continued to elaborate.

  "Not only is he a womanizer, but he's also got a bad reputation-"

  "Bad as in how?" At first I wondered if he was an abuser or one of the types that got insanely jealous. Worse yet, could he be a stalker? My imagination began to run wild.

  "Nothing physical," she said. "Just that he’s broken more than a few of his share of hearts, I can tell you that."

  "Nothing abusive? Physically, emotionally, or otherwise?" I asked.

  She shook her head. "Not that I know of. But still, you're lucky you got out when you did. You could've gotten hurt a lot worse if things had gone much farther."

  Farther? Farther than what, I wondered. Did she know? "What do you know about it?" I asked. I saw a flash of embarrassment darken Vivian's cheeks, and then she tried to backtrack. "Go ahead, spill," I told her. I braced for the worst.

  "Sorry, Jessica, I don't want to be the one to tell you this, but rumor has it that you guys went to a sushi restaurant, made out on the table, and then he took you up into the foothills…"

  Oh my God, I thought. Not only was he with jerk, but he was a loose-lipped jerk. He obviously didn't adhere to the gentleman's code of kissing and not telling. I felt a brief surge of panic. "Everyone knows?" I was horrified and felt my own flush of embarrassment heat my cheeks. "Oh God."

  "I'm sorry, Jessica," Vivian repeated. "I just thought you should know. If it makes you feel any better, this is not the first time that this has happened. That's what I meant by him having a bad reputation. It's not that he goes around bragging, but from what I understand, he has a few friends and they're not that hesitant about talking about their sexual exploits. Unfortunately, none of them understand the concept of privacy."

  I glanced around the room, wondering who else knew. Now every time someone looked at me, I would wonder if they knew about Luke and me – about our sex in
the woods. How many details had he let slip, purposely or otherwise? I swear, if I could get my hands on him right now, I think I would throttle him. How dare he!

  Later that afternoon after I got back home, I stomped up to my room. Before I could even open my bedroom door, however, Becky opened her door and gestured for me to come inside. I did. They were all there. I could tell by the looks on their faces – sympathetic, understanding, and flustered – that they had heard the same rumors today. I decided to make it easy on them. "Don't worry, I know all about the rumors that are going around campus about Luke and me."

  Selena was the first to speak. "Jessica, this is horrible. I'm so sorry. Well, if it wasn't clear before, it is certainly clear now that Luke is a jerk…more than a jerk. He's a bastard. And the next time I see him, I'm not going to hesitate to tell him so, not that it would matter to someone as stuck up and arrogant as he is."

  I shook my head. "Better just to not get involved, Selena. And don't you worry.

  If I see him, you can rest assured that I'll have a few choice words for him myself."

  Chapter 4

  Creep. That's what I wrote in my diary that night about Luke. He was a creep. He was a disappointing example of a man; a man who took advantage and then spread rumors. What was this, high school? This was a perfect example of why I didn't get involved with guys here at college. They seemed so immature, so incapable of being serious. While I knew it was wrong to lump them all into one category, I had yet to find a guy in college that not only met my standards, but behaved like a man and not a boy fueled merely by testosterone.

  What was it with guys? I was so sick and tired of this double standard. When a guy played the field, he was given a slap on the back and encouragement. Atta-boy! When a woman did, she was labeled a slut. I was the farthest thing from a slut that anybody could define, and yet here I was, finding my reputation being bandied about around school as just that: a slut.

  I wasn't exactly sure of the details floating around campus, but I had noticed one thing toward the end of the day – more of the guys smirked at me while I received a combination of reactions from girls. Some looked at me with outright sympathy while others with jealousy. Apparently, Luke was one of the main attractions on campus this year. As far as I was concerned, though, he had come out of nowhere, and he could just disappear for all I cared. What made it even more difficult for me, other than my hurt feelings and embarrassment, was the fact that I had really enjoyed spending time with him. To say that I had enjoyed our sexual adventures was an understatement. Why, oh why did Luke have to be such a creep?

  After I finished my diary entry, I went back to my list of prerequisites. Staring at it, I had an Eureka moment. Okay, so Luke was a womanizer, and although I hadn't really intended to compare a womanizer with someone who was experienced, I suppose one didn't come without the other. With a sigh, I placed a checkmark next to womanizer. Okay, so Luke not only had tattoos, but he was a this requirement, too.

  I sat back, the diary falling into my lap as I stared up at the ceiling, contemplating. I couldn't help it. Despite how Luke had treated me, I was still attracted to him. In fact, even just thinking about him caused my nipples to harden and my private area to thrum with desire. What the hell was that all about? I had never felt this way about a guy, and certainly not about a guy that had used me and then turned around and ignored me as if I was nothing more than a casual plaything. I tried to stay angry, but as I continued to think about Luke, his luscious black hair, his eyes, and those incredible tattoos on strong and muscled forearms, I felt flushed and excited.

  My private area was tingling now, and I was surprised to realize that even thinking of Luke and his hard body could bring me to such a state of heightened excitement. Alone in my room I was free to fantasize, and that's exactly what I did. I fantasized that Luke was standing at the bottom of my bed, naked. Of course, I hadn't seen him completely naked, but I had seen enough of him to fill in the blanks. I envisioned him walking toward my side of the bed, his erection in full view, the pulse of desire throbbing in his neck. He knelt down beside the bed and began to unbutton my shirt. His lips met mine, and I moaned.

  The sound of my own moan jolted me to awareness. I gazed around my room. Luke wasn't here. I was being foolish, indulging in nothing but fantasy. I shook my head. I had never indulged in wild imaginings and certainly not sexual fantasies. Still, there was something naughty about it, something taboo that captured my curiosity. Who was it going to hurt? Even more importantly, who would know? I got up from the bed and undressed, then lay back down on the bed, naked. The only light on in the room was my bedside table light, casting a dull glow around the bed, but not deep enough to delve into the shadows at the corner of the room. Outside the dormer window, the sky was dark.

  On a whim, and smiling, I spoke into the darkness. "Who needs you anyway, Luke? I have my memory, and I can indulge in you anytime I want. Better yet, I can do it without any further hurt from you. So what do you say about that?"

  I lay on the bed, closed my eyes, and let my imagination run wild. Once again, there was Luke, standing at the base of the bed with incredibly broad shoulders, huge pecs, bulging biceps, and of course, those glorious tattoos. His abs were rock hard and sported the coveted six-pack, and then my gaze dipped down to his narrow hips. From its nest of dark curls rose his erection, and I envisioned it as it hardened and lengthened his penis at my whim, not his. I smiled again. This was fun.

  In my imaginings, I once again urged Luke to walk around the side of the bed, where he gazed down at me with nothing but admiration and adoration. His eyes traveled from my face to my breasts, lingered there, shining with anticipation, and then his gaze traveled down my abdomen and down to my own trimmed nest of blonde curls. Then, I imagined him kneeling beside the side of the bed, cupping my face with his hands, kissing me softly. One hand traveled down my jawline and along my neck until it rested over my left breast, cupping it gently as he felt its weight. His thumb brushed across my nipple, instantly hardening it.

  After both my breasts were tingling with desire, aching for his lips, the hand continued downward, stroking softly, gently until cupping my pubis. My breathing accelerated, my blood drumming through my veins, my sense of incitement enhanced. As his head dipped lower and his lips enveloped a nipple, the hand began to explore my pubis, seeking and finally locating my clitoris. As his tongue swirled around my nipple, my hand moved, awakening every nerve sensation in my body. I was so turned on by my fantasy that the line between reality and fantasy soon faded. It was Luke’s hands exciting me, urging me onward, and not my own.

  My excitement built, and I could feel my impending climax. His mouth moved to my own and I imagined him kissing me, his tongue swirling around mine, while his hands – my hands – worked their magic. My hips rocked in a strong, rhythmic motion, and I imagine his soft moans as he felt my wetness, my impending orgasm. Suddenly, there it was, washing over me in deep, long, undulating waves.

  It took quite a while for my internal muscular spasms to gradually subside and when they finally did, I open my eyes, smiling. I felt relaxed and lethargic. "So, Luke Bradford," I said to the ceiling. "Who needs you?" I laughed, rolled over, and felt myself tipping over the edge into a deep and satisfying sleep.

  Chapter 5

  A week passed and then two, and I saw no sign of Luke. Maybe he'd moved on. Maybe his family had moved again, although I couldn't imagine a guy his age trailing along with his family when he was already in college. Then again, Luke didn't appear overly concerned with his college classes or GPA. He hadn't shown up in advanced chemistry. Of course, my curiosity often got the best of me and I would wonder where he was and what he was doing. Within a few days, the hoopla regarding me had calmed down.

  Rugby season was underway, with an upcoming game scheduled for this coming Thursday night. Boston U had disbanded their football team back in the late 90s, but rugby had soon taken its place as one of the favorite sporting events and venues on campus. I wasn't
that interested in the history of the rugby team per se, but I did know that for four years, they had not played. This year, they were slated to compete in the Collegiate Rugby Championship.

  Actually, the Boston College Rugby Football Club had been founded in the late 1960s with a rather impressive history. I knew that the club competed in the East Coast Rugby Conference Division I, with leagues playing every fall and with tournaments in the spring, but not much more. I was not an avid sports fan, though I often did attend school sporting events with my sorority sisters. Not so much because I was interested in the standings, but of course, admiring the players while supporting school spirit at the same time. The girls and I were set to go to this week’s game, only one day away.

  I had forcefully pushed Luke to the back of my thoughts, unless I was using him in my sexual fantasies just as callously and casually as he had used me. At first, I had found the thought of masturbating embarrassing, but what the hell? No one knew, it satisfied my urges, and didn't hurt anyone, so what was the big deal? I hadn't seen him around, not even a glimpse, but for some reason, I had a feeling that I hadn't seen the last of Luke Bradford.

  None of my sorority sisters were going out with anyone steady. Like Luke, they were playing the field, although not to the extremes that he had. They had each gone out on a few dates, offered a few liberties, but nothing extreme. Like other young women our age, my sorority sisters admired the male form just as much as anyone else, but there were standards, after all. While we teased and encouraged each other, I knew that every one of us was careful with what we gave away, so to speak. I had learned my lesson and wouldn't get caught "giving it away" quite so easily the next time. Perhaps that was all part of learning and growing up. I had allowed my imagination to run wild. I had allowed my sense of being attractive and desirable to a guy get to my head.