Playing The Bad Boy's Game (Completed July 2012) FIRST BOOK SO IT IS CRAP W A R N I N G

Chapter 2: Bitch, please

He was a monster.  A bad boy was not defined by how many girls they’d slept with, but he was defined by what he had done. 

And he had certainly done everything—the boy was Satan (had I mentioned that?), and I believe he was out to get me.  Oh Rivyn, welcome to Karma cafe. There are no menus; you will get served what you deserve. 

“Sorry Mr. Gillian.  I had to help my mother at the retirement home this morning,” the handsome student said. 

It was a complete lie though.  I knew better. 

“The elder ladies needed help with their morning walks.” 

Another lie.  “And I had to make sure they came home safe.” 

Bitch, please.  You’d never be caught dead walking an elder across the street. 

“But I did get you this.”  He threw him and apple which Mr. Gillian fumbled to catch.  Blondie and I stifled a laugh, but clamped our mouths shut after the teacher fired a cold glare.

The student’s big warehouse boots echoed past my ears.  What a lying jerk!  I pretended to cough, slipping out a few words of ‘liar’ and ‘fraud’. 

Unfortunately, he chose to ignore it.

“Um...Thanks, Mr. Daniels.....” Mr. Gillian said faintly, observing the apple with a sceptical look. 

The hunky bitch smoothly slid next to me, pulling up real close.  Too close.

Chest hammering, I shifted the chair a bit, keeping my distance like the kid had the Black Plague.

He stuck his big hand out—Lord, why was everything big about him?

That’s what she said.

“Names O’Brian.  Usually people just call me Brian. And your name, baby?” he asked, voice deepened.  

I stared at his mortifyingly gigantic hand.  That thing could probably cup a gorilla’s ass, it so huge.  Disgusted, I wondered how many butt’s slapped per day with those hands.

I failed a response, too clouded with my thoughts and barely noticed there was an awkward twenty seconds. 

“Do you know English?” he asked, searching my face as if I was a foreign exchange student.  Sympathy flickered over his features, and for a moment, I thought maybe he had changed until he said, “Because the ladies say I’m an expert at oral.”

He didn’t just... Oh flaming babies.

I narrowed my eyes, anger blurring his good looks.  “My name’s get lost y—”

“You two!”  Our heads jerked up.  “Where are both your late slips?” snapped Mr. Gillian.  Had I kicked this teacher’s balls in his past life?  And he couldn’t have asked for those slips earlier?

Brian dug his pockets for the slip and frowned.  “I don’t have it, Mr. Gillian.  I’m deeply sorry from the bottom of my heart.”

“More like from the bottom of your ass,” I snorted.

Mr. Gillian’s brows furrowed and he waved a nonchalant hand towards the door.  “You two—fetch a slip and don’t come back until you have one!” 

“I’ll wait for Brian to come back from the office,” I insisted.  Alone in the hall with that monster was like strapping a deer to a tree in hunting season.  Fatal. 

“Now,” the teacher ordered.

“Bu-”

“Unless you prefer running into the principal’s office.”