Being Bad

By Jenessa Beyer

I’ve always been the nice guy. The guy that girls said they would love to take home to meet their mother. So what did it get me?

Dumped at the altar. My fiancée running off with the biggest asshole I’ve ever known.

I’m not saying that just because he stole my bride. I’ve known him all my life and got to see every single shady thing he’s pulled. Because he’s my brother.

So that’s it. No more ‘nice guy.’

I’ve moved to a new town. Making my life as the new me. And that includes a lot of late nights at the bars, hooking up with one-night stands and avoiding even the hint of commitment like the plague.

The last thing I need after one of those late nights is my neighbor playing her stereo way too loud. I’m too tired and too fed up to even try to be polite about it. Storming over to confront her in only my underwear.

Turns out, she’s the hottest woman I’ve ever seen.

I want her and I make sure she knows it. But there’s no way that I’m going to touch her. There’s an innocence in her eyes that makes it clear that she’s as naïve as I used to be. I’m not a nice guy any longer, yet there’s no way that I can bring myself to destroy that in someone like her.

Turns out, Zoey isn’t quite as pure as she looks. And she really wants to be bad... with me.

"Being Bad" is a short and steamy romance featuring a ‘bad’ boy who isn’t as cynical as he wants to be, and an untouched young woman who knows exactly what she wants from her gorgeous neighbor. It contains no cheating and has a guaranteed happily ever after.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jenessa Beyer
• Release date: Apr 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005512507

Jenessa Beyer

Jenessa Beyer has been fascinated by romance since she was a young girl. As she grew up, so did her tastes, and now she loves—and writes—hot stories full of instant attraction and desire.

Book preview

Chapter One

Chapter One (Bryan)

Jolted out of my restless sleep, I didn’t recognize my surroundings when I opened my eyes. Not the sheets under me, not the walls around me. Not even the ink on the skin of my right arm.

In my dreams, I had gone back to my old life, to a time before it all fell apart. Back when I was still naïve. Still what everyone considered a nice guy.

For most of my life, I had been told that I was safe. The kind of guy that girls would love to take home to meet their mothers. Steady and reliable and never unfaithful.

So what had it gotten me?

Dumped at the altar. My fiancée running off with the biggest asshole I’ve ever known: my brother, Jacob.

I didn’t call him that because of one incident. Oh, no. I’d had a front-row seat to almost every shitty thing he’d done in his miserable life. It had always amazed me that he got even half as many women into his bed as he claimed he had, considering how badly he treated every woman he encountered.

He’d done the same with my former girlfriend, Kimberly. Mocking her—and me, for dating her—from the first time I took her home to meet my family.

The two of them had appeared to only tolerate each other at best. I never realized it was a cover for…

The very air seemed to vibrate now. Not from the memories, or from the amount of alcohol I’d consumed in the night.

No.

Music. Classical music, of all things, played at the volume of a rock concert.

Fucking hell.

The walls of my apartment vibrated from the noise. Definitely not what I wanted to wake up to, especially at—I squinted at my clock, my eyes so dry that they felt like sandpaper—seven a.m. on a fucking Sunday.

I groaned and buried my head under my pillow, but even that didn’t block out the noise. There was no way I would get back to sleep now.

I staggered to my feet, barely glancing down to make sure I was dressed before I headed out the door. True, it was only my boxer-briefs. Snug and tight and not something I should go out in. But I didn’t want to take the time to get dressed, and if my neighbor had a problem with that?

Too fucking bad.

They should’ve considered things like that before they started playing their damn music at this hour.

I didn’t even remember meeting my neighbor, but I had made little effort to meet anyone around here. Being friendly and being nice were two things best left behind in my old life, and if I needed company—usually female company—I’d go out to the clubs.

For something temporary.

I would never get close to anyone. Ever again.

I reached my neighbor’s door, waited for a brief pause in the music, and pounded my fist against the wood.

Waited. My temples throbbed in time with the beat, and heat rose along the back of my neck.

I slammed my fist into the door again.

Still no response. Were they fucking hard of hearing? I suppose that would have been an excuse for the volume, at any other time of the day.

But now?

It opened as I lifted my fist one more time, and I jerked back sharply to avoid striking the person instead of the wood. Let my hand drop back to my side and stared at the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen. Barely noticed the flecks of paint in her hair. My gaze drawn to her wide brown eyes and her beautiful mouth. I pictured those dark pink lips wrapped around my cock.

Fuck.

The rest of her was just as fucking hot. The oversized shirt she wore was threadbare, stained with more splotches of paint. But they weren’t so numerous or so strategically placed as to prevent me from getting a glimpse of more than the outline of her breasts.

And her nipples. Hard and tight little points.

She gasped, and I realized she must’ve seen where I was staring at, for she crossed her arms over her chest. A deep blush spread over her face up to the roots of her hair. She opened and closed her mouth several times, but no sound came out.

I had never been one of those guys who couldn’t it get up while under the influence of alcohol, though I’d never discovered if the same held true when hung over. Until now. I was more than rock hard. My dick throbbing so violently, I half-expected it to stab right through the fabric of my underwear.

Fucking hell.

I wouldn’t have been drinking if I’d seen a hottie like her last night. Not alcohol, anyway. I would have licked her until her cream coated my tongue and covered my face, making her come repeatedly before bending her over the nearest convenient surface to ram my stiff dick deep inside her sweet little body from behind. At the bar, out in the alley… it wouldn’t have mattered.

Hell, I was tempted to do that right now.

Ached to rip that thin t-shirt right off her luscious figure and take her. Here and now.

C-can I help you? Her soft voice trembled. Barely loud enough for me to hear her over the music, but more than enough to put an immediate brake on the dirty thoughts running through my head.

Fuck. I wanted to forget why I’d come here in the first place, but… Yeah. I growled. You can turn that fucking music down.

Her pretty mouth rounded, and her eyes widened. Was I scaring her?

Too fucking bad.

I was too tired to be polite.

Too tired to care. Or should have been, after a sleepless night.

No. Not anymore. I’d come fully fucking awake after seeing her.

Especially in my dick.

She continued to tremble, but something flashed in those brown eyes and she raised her chin. Defiance or bravado? Impossible to tell the difference. You have something against classical music?

I bristled at the implication. That I was only objecting to what she was listening to because I was some kind of uncultured brute. "Actually, I quite like Mozart. But not at seven in the morning. And it’s making the fucking walls of