Bad For Me

Chapter 12

"What?" Spencer asked incredulously as he pulled away from me.

I felt my body shake again and I nodded my head. "I couldn't remember before but I do now." I whimpered. "I-I-"

"I'm going to fucking kill whoever did this to you. Who the hell did this to you?" Spencer practically barked.

I looked down, trying to remember but I couldn't. "I don't know, I can't remember." I mumbled. I heard Spencer sigh and scoot closer to me, pulling me onto his lap once again. I buried my head in the crook of his neck and let out a few more unshed tears. "I feel so," I trailed off not finding the right words. "So... dirty and used." I whimpered.

"Shhh," Spencer said, running his fingers through my hair, trying to sooth me. "You're not dirty. Yes, he used you but that's not going to change how anyone feels about you. The guy is a sick bastard and once we figure out who he is I'll take care of him. Don't worry." He said before kissing my forehead. I sniffled and looked up at him.

"He had a tattoo. It was on his shoulder and reached right where a t-shirt would end." I said as I wiped my eyes.

"What was it?"

"I don't know, some of those stupid designs you always see douches wearing."

Spencer smirked and shook his head. "I really hope I'm not under one of those douche categories because I do have a tattoo you know."

I smiled as I traced my fingers over the raised skin from the ink. On his pec he has a tattoo for his uncle. He got it when he turned sixteen to commemorate two years of his death. "Yours actually has meaning." I said softly before kissing it.

He cupped my cheek and brought my face level to his. "We're going to find this creep, okay? You're going to see the tattoo and we're going to take care of this. No one is going to hurt my girl okay?"

I felt butterflies in my stomach from the seriousness in his tone but also from the love laced in them. I couldn't believe that Spencer actually cared for me and didn't just want to bed me like he said before. The bad boy, man-whore actually has a heart.

I nodded my head and rested it against his. I realized that I was currently braless and the only material in between our bare skin was the sheets from his bed. "Can I please put some clothes on?"

He chuckled and quickly pecked my lips before rolling off the bed, falling to the floor to get his pants. "As you wish baby girl. But personally I like the underwear, it's more liberating. Unless you want to go fully naked, that's fine by me too." He said cheekily.

I narrowed my eyes playfully at him, feeling myself go back to normal. "I'm not a nudist."

"But if you were I would gladly join you. If you turned out to be a nymphomaniac I would also easily be willing to join you. It's your call, really." Spencer said, sliding his jeans up so that they sagged perfectly.

I admired the view of Spencer's toned chest and stomach on display and shook my head. "And you say I'm the one that's full of shit. You literally pulled that out of your ass and made it work."

"That's not being full of shit sweetheart, that's called pure talent." He said, leaning towards me before pressing his lips against mine.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."

"Well it's a good thing I graduated with honors." He said with a wink. I rolled my eyes.

"Don't even talk to me about graduating." I groaned.

"Why? It's a great feeling knowing you lasted four years without killing any of your classmates. I mean sure, there were moments when you came pretty close but the fact that you didn't is an accomplishment in itself. Sure a high school diploma is good too." He shrugged.