Bad Reputation
K.B Nelson
kbnelsonbooks.com
Contents
Copyright
Blurb
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Also by K.B Nelson
Contact
Copyright © 2015 by K.B Nelson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Blurb
She knows better. She just doesn’t care.
On the verge of college graduation, Apple Malloy finds herself entangled in one last game of manipulation, deceit, and sexual corruption with her ex-lover, and constant enabler, Brick Valmont. The bet? That she can seduce the professor who had failed her the semester prior before Brick can seduce the innocent daughter of a sitting U.S. Senator.
If Apple emerges victorious, Brick will be forced to admit she's better at these cruel games they play. If she loses, she must sleep with him one last time before graduation.
But when the tables are turned, and Apple finds herself falling for the man she’s supposed to destroy, all bets are off. And as the games quickly spiral out of control, one thing remains certain; nobody escapes unscathed in this titillating story of manipulation where nothing is as it appears.
Bad Reputation is the first book in the Bad Reputation series, and is loosely based on the 1782 classic novel, Dangerous Liaisons.
Prologue
FOUR YEARS AGO
His fingers were interlaced with mine, holding my hand above my head and against the cushion of a hotel pillow. His eyes bore into my own, reveling in taking what was his.
I was his, and it was beautiful. A little painful at first, but I knew that was to be expected. I thought to myself, about how I was lucky to be losing my virginity to someone who loved me. I loved him in return.
His name was Mason, and he was the guy that every girl in high school wanted, but he chose me. I spent years at that school pining after him, praying that someday he would give me more than a passing look. It was in the early morning, and before the first bell, when he first approached me in the hallway on some random Monday.
The letter jacket he wore around his broad shoulders was a status symbol of something unobtainable. That’s what I thought. But with a smile and the kindest of words, he asked me to the movies one Friday night.
Our relationship took off, much to the shock and confusion of everyone around us. He was the golden child and I had been branded as nothing more than trailer-trash since junior high. Falling in love wasn’t difficult. It was as easy as learning to play checkers after already conquering chess.
Two months later, he carried me into prom and gave me a night so magical that I imagined I had dreamt it. I wasn’t fairy tale material.
There we were, in that hotel room and the world had finally begun to make sense. With every slow, measured thrust of him inside me, I felt the connection grow stronger. I knew, without a shadow of doubt, that he loved me. I was complete for the first time in my life.
When we were finished, and he had climaxed inside the sheath of a condom, he rolled onto his back. We both lied there, watching as a ceiling fan spun in circles above us. I followed the blades of the fan with my eyes, only peeling my attention away when Mason reached down to pull the condom off his cock.
Even after having sex, it still felt odd and wrong to be in such close proximity to a cock. It had been inside of me, and a right of passage had been crossed. I became a woman in that hotel room—that’s what society said. Still, I knew it would take time to grasp the loss of innocence, and the beginning of something anew.
I clutched the sheets around my body and rolled out of bed, making a quick sprint to the bathroom. I needed a shower before I closed my eyes, cuddled in the arms of the boy I had grown to love.
I made it quick, cleansing my entire body in a mere few minutes. All I wanted was to fall asleep, because for the first time my reality was better than my dreams. I turned the water off and dressed in a hurry before pushing the door open.
The bed was empty, with the comforter thrown to the side and a white slip of paper lying in the center. Cautiously, I reached down, grabbed the paper and read it out loud.
Apple,
It’s not easy to say this, so I thought I’d just write it down instead. Graduation is in a few weeks, and I think we’re just headed in different directions. Also… Mike bet me five hundred dollars that I couldn’t make you fall in love with me before prom. I think it’s safe to say I’m much richer tonight than I was yesterday.
Thanks for the lay,
Mason
P.S. You were good, but could definitely use a little more practice
1
PRESENT
Brick taps his long fingers along the steering wheel. Beneath the glow of passing streetlights, he almost looks innocent. What a fucking joke. That boy hasn’t been innocent since the first time his dick got hard. It’s been a downward spiral since he realized he could stick his dick wherever he wanted, with whomever he wanted.
Behind those fucking beautiful emerald eyes is a demon. He eats women for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You can’t help but feel sorry for the women who accidentally fall onto his plate during brunch.
He’s as magnetic as a lithium battery that floats a little too close to the sun. Everyone wants him. Many have him. Nobody comes out from a one-night stand with him unscathed. In the space of one night, he’ll capture your heart and then shred it in front of the entire world.
He’s tall, with the kind of modern ruggedness that women line up in droves just for a chance to touch. The tattoos that line his right arm to the crook of his elbow tell a thousand different stories—all of which are true—but the women who fall for him never stop to read the narrative. The tattoos above his elbow doesn’t really mean jack shit. It’s a tapestry made of an abstract collision of colorful shapes.
His hand fondles the knob of the shifter long before the gears are ready to turn. He thrives on being in control, always moving chess pieces in his mind. I can see the gears turning in his mind. There’s a smile that hitches patiently across his lips, drawing attention to the perfect slant of his shaven and masculine jawline.
It’s people like him that turned me into the woman I am today.