Be My Bad Boy

We both jumped apart like a couple of schoolkids being caught out.
"Marge, call the cops. There are a couple of randy kids broken in here."
I straightened my dress and turned to face him. An old guy glared at us. If he had a shotgun to hand, I reckon he would've shot us then and there. I could hear someone else, Marge, I guess, rustling around outside. The old guy had wild, white hair sticking out of his beanie and a weathered face. He stared at us as if we were criminals.
"We didn't break in." Technically I guess we did. "Frank said we could use this place. He gave me the key."
"Frank? Frank Porter?"
I nodded. This old man was starting to see some sense.
He snorted.
"Frank's place is down the next road. The third turn off after the town. You kids don't have a lick of sense, do ya? As if Frank Porter would have a dump like this. Couldn't ya tell by looking?"
"Well, I did think it was rather strange. We'll just get going then…" I didn't want to look at Andy. He'd never let me hear the end of this. But I was sure we’d taken the third road after the town.
"Marge, no need for the cops. These kids are just fools. Leastways, they got the stove heated up for us." He turned to us. "Wanna stick around for dinner. Marge'll rustle you something up, quick smart."
I gulped. I didn't want to stick around with these people. I had a throbbing deep inside me and I needed to get away. I wanted Andy. I really wanted him. I needed to have him, right then and there. If we got to the real beach house, we could continue on from where we’d left off. He could ease the ache inside of me.

When we got in the car though, I wished I'd taken them up on that invitation for dinner, since it'd have delayed the moment when we'd be alone together. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to know what would've happened if we hadn't been interrupted. Even though I knew it was wrong. But Andy kept quiet, and the silence worried me.
Then I looked at him and saw the corners of his mouth twitch. He snorted out a laugh. I couldn't help myself either but started giggling too. Then, we both exploded with laughter.
"You were navigating. You said it was the third road. I hold you totally responsible."
"It was the third road. I counted. I can count to three, you know."
He just laughed some more. I wasn't going to win that one.

"Why do ridiculous things happen when you're around? You get me into a world of trouble. Every time I touch you, we get interrupted"
"Well, you were the one that broke in through the window. Maybe we should've realised then."
The key not fitting into the lock probably should've been a dead giveaway. If it didn't fit at the next place we found, I'd sleep in the car.
I tried to concentrate on finding the turnoff and not Andy's hands. His long fingers curled around the steering wheel. I could still feel the impression on my skin where he’d touched me. I wanted to keep that mood but I couldn’t, not with him joking around like this. “And what was with the clown thing? Were you getting scared on your own?"
"Shit, that's the road. Turn here."
Andy slammed on the brakes and turned down the road.
"Give me a bit more notice next time."
We drove for about five minutes then saw a huge white house looming in front of us, perched up arrogantly, as if it had the right to command the entire seaside.
"Is that it? That's not a beach house. That's a mansion."
The place looked like something out of a design magazine, much more like I had expected. Definitely not a falling-down shack. We pulled up and parked the car in the garage under the house and took the stairs up to the front door. This time, the key fit in the lock. We walked inside and turned on the lights. This place was amazing, especially after my shitty flat. The whole interior was done out in red and white, with floor to ceiling windows looking out over the ocean, and with a huge deck.

Notes

Thereeeeeeee