Bad girl, p.1
Bad Girl, page 1
A. Briar
Bad Girl
Copyright © 2023 by A. Briar
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
A. Briar asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
First edition
This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy
Find out more at reedsy.com
To the man that inspired this…
Contents
Blurb
I. BAD GIRL
1. Grace
2. Adam
3. Grace
4. Adam
5. Grace
6. Adam
7. Grace
8. Epilogue
II. SPIN THE BOTTLE BONUS SHORT STORY
9. Spin The Bottle
Blurb
**BLURB**
ADAM
I’ve vowed to spend the rest of my existence alone. I’ve vowed that I would never touch another woman. Never kiss another woman. Never think of another woman. But she came along and now I can’t get her scent out of my mind. I can’t stop thinking about how her cunt would feel with me inside of her. But it’s wrong. So very wrong. I’m a man of God and I should be scared, right? So why the fuck do I want my niece so badly?
GRACE
My parents were in their own world, ready to ship me off to stay with my recluse of an uncle. A man of God. Adam. He hates me. I know he hates me even when he has his cock inside of me. And I shouldn’t want him, but I do. Forgive us, for we have sinned.
I
Bad Girl
1
Grace
I stood in front of the gates of Silver Cross Convent. Tall, black wrought iron gates that rose high into the air. Dark green vines curled around the spikes at the top.
Standing on my toes, I pressed the buzzer on the dark brick wall and waited patiently.
I had no intention of coming here. To this convent in the middle of nowhere, but my parents were going through a divorce and were too obsessed with their own issues that they couldn’t have me in the middle of their process. So they sent me here, to stay with him. My uncle. I haven’t seen him in years because he’s never once left this place, but he agreed to take me in for a month.
Or, well, however long my parents took with this process of theirs.
I wasn’t sure of attire, so I settled on a black dress that I’d worn for my grandmother’s funeral. It just passed my knees and even though it pinched my skin in certain areas because it was too tight, it was the only decent thing I could find for today.
Just as I was about to press the buzzer again, I saw the huge black door opening and then he stepped out and started moving towards the gates. I immediately recognised him from the way his long, thick black hair moved in the slight breeze, his pale skin and the scar that marred his neck. It was a red, ugly looking scar that had always terrified me when I was a young girl. My uncle, Adam Blackwood. A recluse and a man of God. He swore himself to the church years ago and ever since then, we haven’t seen a lot of him.
He reached the gate and began unlocking the chains and even from behind the gate, he intimidated me with his gigantic frame. Everything about him was dark and dangerous and those weren’t the kind words you’d usually use to describe a priest. He was tall, his hands were huge, he never smiled and he never made eye contact. Even now as I stood before him, he refused to look me in the eye and I wasn’t sure why. He was a peculiar man that just didn’t quite fit in anywhere, so I supposed that I sort of understood why he’d locked himself up here all alone in a convent away from society and their prying eyes.
As he pulled the gate open, I was suddenly stuck for words. I didn’t know what to say exactly.
“Are you going to come in?” he asked in a voice so deep that a shiver slithered down the back of my neck. His full lips were pulled into a displeasing thin line. He was already annoyed with me. Great!
“Oh-yes, I…” I trailed off as I hauled my suitcase forward, still very unsure of my words and what I wanted to say.
Adam reached forward, his tall frame almost pressing against me as he took the suitcase from me. His cool fingers brushed against mine and I caught a hint of spicy cologne and old books. I recognised the smell of old books anywhere, because I’d buried myself in them so many times over the years.
He was in a white dishevelled shirt and black pants and the first row of buttons were undone. I found myself rudely staring at his bulging Adam’s apple and then the red scar that struck right across his chest. It was an old scar. I wondered for a moment how he’d gotten it. My parents rarely spoke of my uncle and they seemed to prefer to keep it that way, so I barely knew anything about him myself. I eventually managed to pull my eyes away from his chest.
Adam managed to lift the bag with ease and shut the gate at the same time once I had stepped past him. I waited until he was done and then followed him into the building. I wasn’t sure what to call the monastic style building. It was made entirely out of what seemed to be dark grey stone and had a black wrought iron spire at the top of a single tower. It certainly wasn’t being used as a convent any more according to my parents when they were persuading me to come here. It was our family’s convent and then I supposed no one else really wanted it except for my uncle. I settled on calling it home. At least for the time being it was my home.
I walked inside, right behind Adam and found myself standing in the space that was probably once used as a church. Except now it was empty of pews and there’s nothing expect for the dark stained wooden floors and the big white cross of Jesus Christ right at the front above a podium.
“The rooms are this way.” Adam’s deep voice broke the silence and I turned to follow him through a narrow passageway and then up a stone crafted spiral staircase. It made me feel claustrophobic the entire time as I walked up those stairs so when I reached the top, I sucked in a deep breath and watched as Adam continued on without me. God, he was so silent. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like if this turned into a long term affair. I would certainly die of boredom. If my parents wanted me out so bad, they might as well have had me locked up in the basement of our home. It was definitely big enough. But here all alone and no one to talk to? I wasn’t so sure I’d be able to manage here on my own.
I followed behind him closely and soon we had arrived at the end of the hallway right in front of the last door.
“You can have any room you like, but I’d prefer if you used this one,” he said. “It’s much closer to mine.”
“Is there any reason why I should have this one specifically?” I asked.
Adam pushed the door open and I walked inside with him.
“So you don’t get afraid at night.” His voice was so low that I barely heard him.
“I don’t get scared very quickly,” I said as he left my suitcase near the base of the four-poster bed.
Adam stayed silent and moved towards the doorway again, so I turned to give him one last look and just before he could close the door shut, his eyes met with mine and I sucked in a deep breath. They were odd eyes. As odd as mine and I felt like I could get lost in them if I stared any longer. Light brown on the outer surface of his cornea and it grew a darker shade of green towards the middle, around his pupils.
And then the door was shut closed and I was left on my own in the silence of my new room.
It wasn’t bad for a convent room. I expected something much worse. The bed was clean and fitted with new bedding. The room had been aired out because the musky old smell was not as strong. There was a fireplace and above that was a crucifix fixed onto the wall.
It wasn’t all that bad after all.
I took out my phone and checked for any signal but I already knew what to expect before I saw no bars, so I just disappointed myself more by looking. No bars and I’m staying in an isolated convent. This was going to be just great.
2
Adam
I still remembered the way she smelled when I took her suitcase from her. She smelled of vanilla and berries. I wasn’t sure which berry exactly, but it was a sweet smell and still seemed to linger around me even though I was no longer near her.
It has been almost two decades since I’ve been around a woman. And now that she was here, invading my space, I wanted her to be gone. My lonely life here in this abandoned convent may not amount to much, but I was better off alone. I still wasn’t sure why I even agreed to let her stay in the first place. Grace. I closed my eyes and I could smell her all around me again. Grace.
That vanilla scent was back in my mind, intoxicating my thoughts. I wondered what the rest of her smelled like, what her skin tasted like. Probably sweet just like her perfume.
I remembered Grace when she was a child. Always quiet and in her own world. And after seeing her today, I’m reminded that she’s no longer a child, but a woman. An image of the way that black dress hugged her body came into my mind. My cock twitched in my pants and my eyes snapped open immediately. No. No. No. This was wrong. What was I doing?
This wasn’t me talking. I wouldn’t look at her that way. I couldn’t
And her eyes. They were like mine. Light brown on the outer area and green as it grew darker towards the middle. Her long black hair cascaded down those slender shoulders of hers. As black as mine. I remembered too much so soon already.
If five minutes of meeting my niece could make me feel this unstable, then what did that mean for the two decades I’ve spent holed up in here, determined to keep my vow? I vowed to never touch another woman. Never kiss another woman. Never think of another woman. I vowed and I’ll keep my vow. I sat down on my couch and closed my eyes. My hands trembled. Forget. I could do that. I could forget. Maybe.
Grace. It was like the devil himself whispering her name over and over again in my ear. Grace. Grace. Grace. Without stopping myself, I unzipped my pants. I was breathing heavily now. My chest rose and fell rapidly with each second that passed. Don’t do this. It has been so long, so long since I’ve…I’ve touched myself. So long since I’ve had a fantasy. And now I was breaking those rules in a matter of minutes for a girl I hadn’t seen in years. For a girl that meant nothing to me, except for the blood that ran through our veins. I would repent after this. Maybe I just needed to get it out of my system. Get her out of my head. I would pray too.
I grabbed my cock in my right hand and slowly began stroking it. It has been so long, but the desire that I felt rushing through my veins was immediate. No! But yes, I wanted this. This and more. I continued stroking, letting my head fall back against the couch. Grace. I wanted to fuck her. The intrusive thought entered my mind before I even knew what I was thinking. Her lips—those pouty rosy lips would look so pretty around me. I started pumping my cock faster, breathing in deep breaths and digging my fingers into the couch with my free hand.
I came into oblivion. My head spun as desire and wicked lust and everything I had abstained from all this years rushed through my body once again. It felt like I was given a taste of the sweetest elixir and I was alive for just that moment in time. My warm come spilled over my hand and I imagined spilling it all over her. Inside of her cunt. I imagined how much better it would feel if I was actually inside of her, pounding her with the same vicious need that took hold of my body right then. I’d have her hair fisted in my hands and tell her all the wrong things I wanted to do to her. The many ways I wanted to fuck her and please her by teasing her cunt. I wondered how she tasted. I needed to know how she tasted. Sweet and forbidden. But my euphoric-filled rush slowed down.
As I came falling back to earth from my orgasm, I was immediately overcome with the guilt and horror of what I had just done.
I broke my one vow. I thought of another woman and it wasn’t just any woman. It was my niece. I shouldn’t have done that, but it wasn’t like I could stop myself. I needed to do it. I needed to get it out of my system.
Standing up, I headed over to the adjacent bathroom and washed my hands under the warm water and washed my face, before I zipped my pants up once again.
As I stared at myself in the mirror. I saw the regret in my eyes and then I saw the scar. The deep red scar that cut right across my chest, snaking its way up my neck like an ugly vine. A brutal reminder everyday of everything I’ve lost. A reminder of why I decided this path and why I would never go back.
I walked back into my room and got down on my knees in front of my bed and began praying.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered after I said a small prayer. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep my promises. I’m sorry that I broke that vow.”
Anger rushed through my veins and I felt the tears building up. There wasn’t a day that didn’t go by that I didn’t think of them. And they were snatched away from me. So why did I deserve to live and enjoy life and sin?
The tears blurred my vision and I let out a deep sound from deep within my chest. Neither a cry nor groan but something else in between. Pain. My pain that silently tortured me inside every single day without fail. Breathing out noisily through my nose, I wiped the tears away before they could fall. I wasn’t weak. I could do this. All I had to do was stay away from her.
3
Grace
I decided on wearing my long, silky white tie-cuff, satin robe after I had showered. I was standing by my window now towel drying my hair and trying desperately to detangle it from those horrid knots.
The silvery-blue mist rolled into the convent grounds from outside the gates. I couldn’t see anything else except for a small crow that flew through the mist and up into the air, spreading those inky black wings as it escaped back into the dark of night.
A has been hours since I’ve arrived at the convent and my parents haven’t called as yet. I always knew they never cared enough—perhaps they never cared at all to begin with. They’ve always been so self-absorbed, constantly in their own bubble. Anything else outside that bubble was nothing of importance to them, unless of course it made them money. Unfortunately I never fell into any category that would magically make my parents care more about me.
There was a sudden knock at the door, drawing me out of my thoughts, so I quickly tied my hair into a low messy bun and made sure my robe was secure before moving towards the door.
Gripping the cool handle, I took a deep breath and pulled the door open to find him standing there. Adam. He was in a black shirt and matching pants and looked every bit as dark and dangerous as earlier.
What chilled me even more was the way his eyes seemed to be fixed on mine, when earlier he wouldn’t even so match as cast me a welcoming smile. His face was devoid of expression and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“Dinner is ready,” was all he said, before he turned around and started moving back down the darkened hallway.
I quickly followed behind him, not wanting to walk all alone in this fucking creepy place.
The kitchen was downstairs and had a rustic feel to it with the dark brown brick walls and the dark wood stain finish on the counter top and the small table in the middle of the room.
There was a roast chicken on the table and two glasses of water along with a smaller bowl of vegetables and a basket of rolls.
Wow. Even my reclusive uncle was more efficient than both of my parents put together. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate a proper meal and not greasy takeout food.
We both took our seats at the table. Adam was across from me. And immediately I felt like I was a miniature doll in front of him. He seemed to take up all the space at the table with his body. His limbs were long and his hands which rested on the table now were extremely large but beautiful. His skin was so pale, I could make out the delicately intricate network of blue veins underneath the skin. A part of me wanted to reach out and touch it. I wanted to touch those long beautiful fingers. But then I noted the golden band on his marriage finger and immediately glanced up to see him watching me. Curiously almost. His dark eyebrows relaxed and continued watching me even as he picked up the large knife and began carving a piece of chicken off.
I held the gasp in my throat as I felt something touch my leg under the table. Was… Was that him?
He looked down as if knowing exactly what I was thinking.
My eyes wandered over his face, over his mountainous cheekbones and sharp clean-shaven jawline. His black hair was so thick and I imagined it to be so soft if only I had the courage to reach out and touch it.
Adam’s eyes met mine again and I realised that I was staring so I looked down at my plate and began to eat.
We sat in silence, nothing but the raging wind outside to fill the air with apprehension. I felt a storm coming on and I hated storms. They had always terrified me as a child and even now as an adult I couldn’t stand them.
Adam barely touched his food. Instead he focused on his glass of water and every so often he glanced up to look at me.
I was done with my food and didn’t want to linger in the creepy halls of the convent if a storm was about to commence, so I stood up and took my plate to the sink.
