Flirting with the Bad Boy by Michelle Pennington

Author:Michelle Pennington [Pennington, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-04-30T05:00:00+00:00

9

I gasped, but before the sound was even out of my mouth, Jason was moving. I watched, stunned, as he charged toward the couple as hard as he’d ever run on a football field. The guy realized what was happening just in time to let go of Brielle before Jason tackled him.

Within seconds, everyone had taken off running toward them. I followed more slowly, stunned. As I got closer, I saw the two guys wrestling on the sand. Jason had the upper hand. He pushed up, straddled Troy’s chest, and punched him in the face. I flinched. After recovering for a second, Troy tried to swing back, but Jason caught the doubled fist and forced it back over Troy’s head, pressing it into the sand. Jason stayed still, totally dominant, while Troy heaved and strained to get him off.

Then Jason’s voice, deep and dangerous, flashed out. “If you ever dare touch her again, I’ll kill you.”

“That trash deserves what she gets,” Troy yelled out.

Not the wisest thing to say. Jason’s fist landed on his nose with a crack that made me sick.

Jason stood and stormed away, leaving Troy to roll to the side and bleed into the sand.

As Jason passed me, his eyes flicked toward me. The tendon in his jaw flexed as if he was gritting his teeth hard enough to break them. He went to Brielle, who was crying in another girl’s arms. “Go to my truck. I’m taking you home.”

He didn’t wait to see if she listened to him. Or if I followed him. He went and got his ice chest and went to his truck, throwing it into the back.

I followed slowly, not sure what to do or how to react. One thing I was very sure of was that this was another side to him—one that both awed and worried me. And even more than that, I was certain there was more between Jason and Brielle than he had mentioned. When I made it to his truck, I stood a few feet away from him, watching silently as he pulled a shirt on.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he muttered.

I couldn’t find any words, so I just stood there.

He sighed, a deep, broken sound. “Let’s get Brielle home. Then we’ll talk.” He hesitated. “Don’t look at me like that. Please.”

Weird. I didn’t even know how I was looking at him. Did shattered have an expression?

But I couldn’t stay on the beach all night, so I got in, sliding to the middle again. Earlier I had begun to feel as if I belonged there. Not anymore. He followed me, slamming his door shut. With a quick turn of his key, his truck engine rumbled awake.

He reversed slowly, then stopped and rolled his window down. “Brielle, come on.”

She came, but slowly. Her arms were crossed, and her shoulders hunched forward. As soon as she was in and her door shut, Jason put the truck in gear and eased forward, picking up speed as he went. We

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