Cousin - Improper (A Bad Boy Romance) Read online

  Cousin

  Improper

  By Delilah Wilde

  Copyright © 2015 Delilah Wilde

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommerical uses permitted by copyright law.

  DISCLAIMER

  This story contains explicit language, sex, violence, and sexual situations that some might find offensive. This book is intended for adults 18+ years of age.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Blurb

  Angela

  Just my luck: my boyfriend breaks up with me, I get into an accident with a psychopath, and a tree falls on my car - all in one day! I need release and relaxation. A toy. And then he walks in, Tim. He's cocky and bossy, and shrouded in mystery. But, can he keep everything a secret?

  Tim

  Just my luck: my grandmother is sick and I'm forced to spend the weekend with a family who hates me. Then I get roped into helping Angela. She's sweet, and kind, and no one else seems to appreciate her. Except me - I can definitely appreciate taking her. But, can she keep it all a secret?

  Table of Contents

  1. CHAPTER ONE

  2. CHAPTER TWO

  3. CHAPTER THREE

  4. CHAPTER FOUR

  5. CHAPTER FIVE

  6. CHAPTER SIX

  7. CHAPTER SEVEN

  8. CHAPTER EIGHT

  9. CHAPTER NINE

  10. CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  "What a fucking asshole!" I yelled into the windshield as I slammed on the brake. I hated people like this. The guy sat at that intersection as I came up the hill, yet still decided to pull right out in front of me. To make matters worse, he slammed on his brakes.

  Over and over again. Was he brake testing me?

  "Dick!" I swore again. Keeping my eye on his flashing brake lights, I reached over into the other seat to grab my cellphone. Which was apparently hiding from me.

  I glanced down at the seat, grabbed the phone, and looked up again. Just in time to see his brake lights flash again.

  Just in time to see them. Not in time to stop.

  I slammed on my brakes with both feet. Yanking on the steering wheel and screaming. My tires shrieked against the asphalt as they carried the front end of my car and skidded into him.

  "Oh, damn it," I whispered after the force of the impact subsided. I checked myself in the mirror real quick and felt along my arms and legs. I was okay. Seconds later, my mind changed. My heart raced and my stomach clenched.

  The door to the car in front of me opened. Lightning flashed across the sky and reflected the make and model. BMW. A fucking Beamer? Of course a fucking Beamer. Because that was the way my luck worked. It couldn't be some sweet little old lady I hit. No. It had to be the king of all assholes climbing out of his beamer.

  Not that I would have wanted to hit some sweet little old lady.

  I took in a deep breath. Thinking he was coming back to grab my insurance information, I reached over to my glove compartment.

  "Hey!" he yelled through my closed window.

  "Oh shit," I thought as I fumbled through the glove compartment. I had to lean over further. The hem of my skirt tickled my thighs as it crept up higher. Of all the times for this to have happened, it had to be right after getting out of work. Going to work in that sports bar dressed as a cheerleader every day was dreadful enough. But it paid the bills while I tried to finish school. Getting caught in the uniform outside of work was humiliating. "Well, maybe he'll get a good show and he'll leave me alone." I tried to laugh.

  Mr. Beamer didn't seem to understand what I was doing. "Hey!" he yelled again. His fist hitting my window made me jump.

  Finally. Found it.

  I sat up, insurance information in hand. I tried to adjust my skirt as I reached for the window handle. Another fist hit the window and I changed my mind quickly.

  I froze. If I gave this asshole my insurance information, he could find out where I lived. Did I really want him to know that?

  Bang!

  "I said get out of your fucking car!" His yells grew louder.

  Cellphone. I'll just call the police. Where the hell did my cellphone fall? I started feeling around the seats and the floor. Nothing.

  Bang! Bang, bang!

  My heart jumped into my throat. "I think you should just get back in your car. We can just wait for the police to get here." I hoped he didn't hear the desperate fear in my voice.

  "Oh is that what you think?" he hit my window a few more times.

  Oh God? Can he break through the window?

  I looked up at him. The rain made everything slick and shiny. His dark hair plastered against his face.

  His eyes left mine and darted downward.

  The car door.

  Fuck.

  I slapped the lock as his arm jerked at the handle.

  The door opened and his other arm reached around the door frame.

  I screamed. I think. I couldn't tell. My heartbeat took over my senses. Thumping away in my ear as I scrambled for the door handle and tried to pull it shut again.

  Yes, I screamed. I must have because I ran out of breath. My throat ached and scratched. Thunder rolled through the sky, making it hard for me to understand his demands.

  He grabbed my arm and pulled. I managed to catch the door with my foot and kicked. Throwing the metal door with a thwack straight into his shoulder. He stumbled back and shook his head.

  The door! I chastised myself for not closing it sooner. Taking advantage of his disorientation, I reached out and grabbed the door.

  He ran at me. Screaming. Growling.

  This was it. This was how I was going to die.

  I slammed the door and slapped the lock down as he landed on the window. His fists pounded against the glass again. He smirked and started to circle the car. Reaching for the back door. I leaned over the seat and slapped that lock down. Without bothering to look at his next move, I leaned over further and slapped down the locks of the other two doors, too.

  Back at my window. He slammed on the glass and yelled. I fumbled for the keys, intent on backing away from him and driving. Maybe he'll just run away? Who was I kidding? This asshole would probably jump in front of my car. Try to sue me later for hitting him. Or worse, jump in his car and run me off the road.

  Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as the key turned in the ignition.

  "Where the fuck do you think you're going? Huh? Get out--."

  ***

  Enough was enough.

  I wasn't sure what the hell was going on. But I definitely did not like what I saw. Two cars stopped in the middle of the road was usually a bad sign. But two cars pulled over at the side of this road in the middle of rain? Something was up. Neither of them noticed me as I parked my bike to see if I could help.

  That's when things got strange. The man, little smaller than I am, circling the car like a vulture. Punching the windows and screaming. The woman inside slamming the locks on her car doors down. Mascara running down her face in streaks.

  "Get out of the fucking car!" He yelled.

  "Hey buddy," I said as I walked up. "Why don't you just back off a little? You can't seriously expect a lady to get out of her car by herself when you're actin
g like a lunatic, right?" If he heard me, he ignored every word. Just kept screaming. The rain started falling harder.

  Fuck.

  Riding my bike this far was bad enough. Now I had to do it in the rain because some jerk wanted to flex his manhood by scaring some lady?

  "Where the fuck do you think you're going? Huh? Get out--."

  Enough was enough. I didn't give him the chance to finish his threat. I grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him behind me.

  "Hey stay out of this."

  I ignored him. It was too late for me to stay out of this. The woman's engine purred softly and I knew she would be leaving. I glared at the man in front of me. Ducking as he swung his fist at my face. I ran in low, tackling him at the rib cage and forcing him back away from the cars. I grabbed the back of his head and slammed it down into my knee. He crumbled to all fours, spitting blood. Another quick kick to his kidneys and he was done. Rolling down the short drop into the trench.

  Sirens. Police. Fuck.

  I glanced back over at the car. Lightning flashes reflected off her windows. Her cellphone screen trembled. She called the police. I glared back down at the trench, judging to make sure whether or not he would be back up.

  No movement.

  I spun back around and climbed up onto my bike. No way I was going to wait for those sirens to get closer. Not if I didn't have to. They'd be here before he could climb back out of there, and she'd be fine. I had to go.

  Grams was waiting. And she was the one person in the world I didn't want to make wait.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I couldn't believe he left. Just left. I didn't even know his name. I didn't know if I should be angry or grateful for the way he handled that asshole. But still. My mind raced with all the force of a thousand paranoid freaks. What if the asshole came back? What if he had a gun? Why didn't that guy stop to give me his phone number?

  That last one confused me. I had always been attracted to the nerds. The underdogs. The guys who would never get into a fight with a stranger on the side of the road. And yet here was this man...this Adonis of a man in leather. He came to my rescue and I was angry at the thought I would never see him again.

  I wondered what would happen if I peeled that leather jacket right off his broad shoulders. Feeling his large, warm hands wrap around my waist and pull me into him.

  Tapping on my window pulled my out of my fantasy.

  Damn it.

  I glanced over. The police had arrived. Tears immediately followed. It was as if the officers' arrival gave my emotions permission to explode out of control. Now I couldn't stop.

  "Ma'am. I need you to step out of the car, please."

  I complied and continued crying. The rain plastered my hair down to my face and neck. The three police officers spit out question after question. But I couldn't seem to get my answers out straight. I spoke in a tone so high pitched only dogs could hear me. And my words slurred into cries as I pointed at the two cars.

  "Okay, Ma'am. Calm down." One of the younger officers walked up and placed an arm on my shoulder. "Take a deep breath, okay?"

  I nodded and followed her instructions.

  "Now take another."

  Another deep breath.

  My trembling slowed and my words started to fall together the way in a more coherent way.

  "Okay, so you want to tell us what happened? On the phone you said you were being attacked. Did the attacker leave?"

  "No. Not really. Someone stopped. A man, on a motorcycle."

  "A man on a motorcycle stopped you?"

  "No. Stopped him. Okay, this man, the man driving that car, cut me off while I was driving down this road." I pointed as I tried to explain everything. "Then he started slamming on his brakes. Like he was trying to make me hit him."

  "Were you in a car accident, Ma'am?"

  "Kind of, I guess. I turned my head for a second to grab my phone and he slammed on his brakes. And I couldn't stop in time. Then he got out of his car and started yelling at me. He said he was going to kill me."

  "And where is he now?"

  I pointed to the ditch on the side of the road where I saw him fall.

  "You threw him into a ditch?"

  "No," I said and shook my head. "He. I'm sorry. He got out of his car and started yelling at me. And he was pounding on the windows and he kept telling me that if I didn't get out of the car that he was going to kill me. I managed to lock all the doors to my car before he could get them open. Then some guy pulled up on a motorcycle and told him to leave me alone. But he didn't listen and instead he attacked the guy from the motorcycle. They fought and then the guy fell down the side of the road and the guy from the motorcycle left. Then you got here."

  I stopped talking. Their eyes were wide by the end of my story. The two men sauntered over to the ditch and leaned over. They talked on their radios to some unseen listener and whispered to each other.

  The female officer stayed with me.

  Rain continued to pelt at me, soaking through this uniform and making me wish, yet again, that this had happened on any other night. Any other night when I wasn't working in this uniform.

  My nipples hardened in the cool air, scratching against the cotton of my uniform. I tried to fold my arms across my chest, hoping it might calm them down.

  "All right," one of the officers said as he walked back up to me. "We have to give you a ticket for the accident. By your own admission you looked away from the road and ran your car into him. Regardless if he was trying to provoke you or not, you hit him and for that we have to give you a ticket."

  I took another deep breath. More tears welled up behind my eyes. How could I be getting a ticket for this?

  "Now, you're going to get a citation in the mail." The female cop whispered. "That citation will list your hearing date. Go to the hearing and you can fight the ticket. Depending on the judge, you might be able to get the ticket dismissed because of the weather."

  "Then why not just skip giving me the ticket?"

  She shook her head. "We're doing our job. You hit another driver, the state says we have to issue a ticket for that. You can choose to pay the ticket if you like. And if you do that, the case will just be dismissed and you won't have to go to the hearing. But I think you should go ahead and fight it. You never know."

  "I've never gotten a ticket before. It doesn't seem right that I should get into trouble because of him." We glanced over. The two men were helping the asshole up out of the ditch. He was walking and rubbing his head. Trying to describe the man who beat him. "What happens to him then? He just gets away with everything?"

  "We don't have enough to charge him with anything. You said he threatened to kill you, so we have to bring him in for questioning. But that's mostly to separate the two of you and give you a chance to leave. More than likely, we'll hold him for a couple of hours, ask him some questions, and then he'll be released and they'll just cough it all up to road rage or something like that."

  "But I get a ticket."

  She took a deep breath and forced a smile at me. "I know it doesn't seem fair. But he didn't actually attack you. Didn't damage your car. Verbal threats just aren't enough to go on."

  I nodded and waited for my ticket. Once the officers told me I could leave, I got in my car and turned over the engine. I couldn't believe this was happening!

  If I had know that asshole would be getting off free and clear while I was given a ticket with a date at court, I would have followed that man on the motorcycle and taken off before the cops got here.

  ***

  The rain was really starting to come down hard by the time I got to Grams's house. And I was pretty pissed off for being late. But I knew it wasn't going to end there.

  My heart pounded in my chest and my stomach twisted into knots as my eyes fell on all the cars there. I knew exactly who they each belonged to. Even the new cars carried the same lame window decals. "Zombies ate your stick family." Just lame.

  I took a deep breath and parked my bike o
ff to the side of the house. Now I would have to make nice with the rest of the family.

  And making nice wasn't something I typically liked to do.

  "Timmy!" Grams cheered as I walked into the house.

  "Hi Grams." I smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

  "Hey. Timmy." Gary mocked.

  "Hey dad."

  "I guess you were absent on the day God taught everyone not to ride a bike in the rain, huh?"

  "Shut the fuck up Gary," Grams said.

  This was why I loved her. Four foot spitfire who would put Satan in his place if he said something she didn't like.

  "It's fine, Grams." I said.

  My dad and I never got along. It bothered me that it upset Grams though. I wished it didn't. I hated to see her upset.

  "Tim, honestly. You couldn't have dressed just a little more appropriately for this? You're soaked through!"

  "Sorry, mom." I replied and kissed her on the cheek.

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Well, at least you're here. And there's something to be said about that."

  "Yea."

  "Timmy would you like some coffee?"

  I hated coffee. "Yes, Grams. That would be great."

  I followed her into the kitchen and she got to work scooping grounds out of the canister and pouring water into the carafe.

  "This has always been one of my favorite pastimes, Timmy," she said.

  "What's that?"

  "Coffee. You're the only one who will drink it with me."

  I couldn't help but think that it might have been because the coffee she brewed looked more like murky water. But I dare not say it out loud. I just smiled and grabbed a couple mugs down from her cabinets.

  "I wish you would let us buy you one of those single cup coffee brewers," said Gary as he snuck into the kitchen behind us.

  "Nonsense. Those things are just a waste of money. I looked into them once before. They say you have to use bottled water to keep the filter clean. What kind of a water filter only works if clean water runs through it but not tap water? They're probably in league with the bottled water companies."