Bad Wrong Things

by C.P. Harris

I broke free of the kiss, inspecting his destruction and coming up satisfied.

Good lord

“Promise me I won’t regret this, Raven.” “I promise,” he said, placing a hand over my heart. And Millers don’t break promises.

*gag* *eye roll*

“Got it. But we’ve got a week before we leave for his graduation. And I plan on reminding you why the juice-is-worth-the-squeeze.” I’d never get tired of launching my lips at his.

What the fuck

“Who does he want?” he asked, perplexed. “Law.” “His father?” “It’s complicated,” I yelled back, making my way to the passenger door.

Like you’re one to judge Clint

“That second and every second after,” he whispered. “Will the seconds ever end?” “When I take my last breath, and not even then.”

Good lord

“Do I have the right to even imagine it?” he’d asked. I’d bit into his nipple, a tiny punishment for doubting himself. “You fucking better imagine it, baby.”

Jesus Christ

Clint reminded me I’d have a place to come back to. A place to dust my knees off, get a warm meal and generous amounts of love and support before saddling my horse again. And I told him in life he’d never have to succeed or fail alone. Not as long as I was breathing.

I honestly just don’t like all these paragraphs summarizing their relationship developing. I want to see it myself, I find all of this so uninteresting. I don’t like books that are almost all telling.

Joey had got to call home after making it through the Marine crucible, and I wasn’t there. Getting the news later from Clint had sent me crashing windless to the kitchen nook chair. It’d hit me how much I missed him when learning I’d lost the chance to hear his voice.

Why didn’t we get to see this scene? Why couldn’t it happen and you let the audience learn and see how he feels instead of informing us how to interpret ANOTHER off-page situation?

Not once had it crossed my mind that a confession needed to be made. What we’d done in the past was his secret, not mine.

Yeah I’ve been wondering

This didn’t need to be a thing. It was over. That part of our relationship didn’t mean anything. Joey and I made sure of it. And maybe he wouldn’t approve of my relationship with his father, at first, but he’d come around once he saw how much we loved each other.

And they both don’t know you’ve been with the other goodness

“All those nights I spent falling deeper, believing you were plummeting right behind me, and in ten days, that’s all wiped away. You’re left standing, and I’m fucking descending without a foothold in sight.”

The dramaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

“I’d rather hear you repeat yourself than spiral through your silences, Clint.”

God no this book is repetitive enough as it is. Everyone shut up for a while.

Clint had a mouth on him when turned on.

AKA his dialogue is indistinguishable from Raven’s

“I’m gonna shatter every trace of who’s been here before me,” he promised, making me virginal and robbing me of my purity at the same fucking time.

JFC

I wanted Clint wild-eyed for me. Crazed with horniness and jealousy. I wanted him to take and take until I was a tiny, invisible speck because he’d inhaled every drop of me. I wanted him to fucking shackle and vanquish and own me. I wanted him that far gone. I wanted him strapped to the seat next to me. I wanted him to come into the dark.

Every time they add sentences in italics after a lil speech it drives me crazy

I would ride his towering cock or die trying. With a thundering heart, and a building pleasure so morbidly big, I rose and lowered into the saddle, riding Clint’s horse-dick like a jockey.

Omg. I don’t like them enough for this to work for me; it’s just making me cackle

holding me prisoner with his gaze until he hugged me unbearably close, snapping a bone—or my heart into place.

Ugh

I’ve thought of you as my battery for as long as I can remember. The thing that kept me going.” I tongued my lips, searching his face, falling madly in love with every single pore and all his perfect imperfections. “Just kiss me, Clint. I’ll never tire of it. It’ll never go out of style.”

It’ll never go out of style? Was he suddenly possessed by a newsie or something?

Men didn’t come simpler than me in those terms. I was happy to ensure those around me were thriving while I collected the scraps for myself. It was what I deserved.

In case we keep forgetting

“You’re head over heels. I can see it.” A small smile played on her lips. “All I ever want is to see you happy.” I gave a hard nod. “I know that, and I am.”

The scene after their first time we get a time jump of months to him telling someone? I want to see them interact in a scene that isn’t arguing about being together before having sex

“I’m not a fucking damsel,” he warned in a rare show of annoyance,

Bro his only modes are horny and annoyed on page at least

“I’ve got a lot for you this time,” I said, gauging the fullness of my sack as it swung. “I’ll be slurping it out of you all night, Raven.”

Nooooo

holding still as my cum drowned him internally.

JFC

His pucker found a way to make room for me, accommodating me with little to no resistance, never tapping out before welcoming all of me.

Never tapping out? I can’t with this book why do they both talk like this

We’d do and try anything that’d get us closer to the feeling we were chasing. I couldn’t word it better than to say we wanted to be stripped of all humanity when with each other. Raven and I did things that would bring my badge and morals into question,

You better start showing me instead of telling me we are almost 50% in

“Get your handcuffs,” he whispered, out of breath.

How dare you fade to black after teasing handcuffs

He thought about my question. He actually fucking thought about my question. I bucked under him, catching him by surprise and sending him to the floor. I leaped from the sofa, pissed and needing to get the hell out of there.

Seriously not a scene where they aren’t fighting or fucking

Clint’s version of gentle was rough, his rough downright punishing, and his concept of punishing crossed too many lines and broke too many pieces of furniture to keep track of. The upturned nightstand now clinging to one leg was proof of that.

Always breaking furniture like it’s a signature move. I wish it got more into what Raven was feeling and experiencing with this CNC stuff. It doesn’t feel all that different from other scenes when it’s paced the same

I monitored you through the two-way mirror. That’s where I was tonight. I rode for a while after, ignoring your calls, to make you pay.” He froze a beat. “You did what?” “I wanted to fucking rip her away from you. I was bitter and angry and threatened. And I wanted to cause a scene big enough to make you all those things, too. To make it clear that you were mine. I wanted to force you to drag me out of there spitting and screaming. You would’ve gotten me alone, and my no would’ve meant no that time because I would’ve been so fucking enraged. And you would’ve fucked me anyway. Knowing this time wasn’t the same. Knowing this time, I meant it.” Fuck, I was getting stiff thinking about it.

Well that would have been a more interesting book

we’d deal the best way we knew how with the tools we’d been given. I only prayed we’d eventually use those god-given shovels to dig our way out, not dig ourselves in deeper.

God-given shovels?

“We’ll be happy. We’ll grow old together and continue to do old man things like play Rummy by the fire, attend geriatric sip-and-paint and shit,”

This is a little cute moment, but it’s bad that I’m excited to find dialogue that doesn’t make me roll my eyes

“Where are you right now, Clint? Tell me so I can kill shit and rescue you from there.” “I’m with Brandon. Always with Brandon.” He cradled me tightly. “I don’t think she can bear me having a birthday since I took away all of his.” I crawled myself higher so our eyes aligned. “You don’t need her, Clint. I’ll redeem you. I’ll barter with God or the devil or his fucking advocate. I’ll save you.”

Ugh

And his pre-cum glistening through his slit like diamonds before sashaying down the thick vein on the back of his wood would always make me thirsty.

NO. Sashaying? NO

“Hi. This is Dr. Statcher calling from Mercer General. Is this Raven Anderson?” “It’s Miller now. Raven Miller.”

Uh oh did bestie get hit by a car because Clint fucked him with just the tip of his cursed car accident murder causing dick?

Counseling never worked for me. I’d spent enough of my time self-evaluating that therapy felt like going backward.

Uh dude, you clearly need more

“Would you be angry if I said I put a tracker on your Harley?”

Unfortunately he didn’t, the book once again suggesting but not following through on the toxicity

He’d surged across the center console, slamming me into the passenger door and kissing me like he wanted every drop of it back, his tongue reaching in impossibly far to get a lick of it.

See this could’ve been a reckless intense scene but it’s just told in a hurry

He took over every cell, making it so they wouldn’t function the same without him. He fed my heart, my ambitions, my body, and my twisted fantasies. He knew when to give, when to take, and when to take more. He held court in my corner. He was the light in my darkness, and the forever in my forever-and-ever. Nothing good had happened to me before meeting Clint. Not even being born. I would fucking love him indefinitely.

Maybe chill out a little, spend more time on friends and hobbies or something

“I told you I wanted to be alone,” he’d said, his reprimand gobbled up by my sweatshirt. “I’ll always find you in the dark, Raven,” I’d said, wrapping my arms around his shaking shoulders. Raven hid to be found. He ran to be caught. When I stepped into his dark place that night, it solidified for him that he was worth the effort it took to chase him. Tonight, he was keeping company with his demons again, and I wouldn’t let them have him. I wouldn’t leave him to fight them alone.

Ugh

We’d never gone a night without sex.

Or a car ride, or a morning, or an afternoon, or a scene of this book since you started…

She didn’t know about Adam. All she knew was her baby boy was in that car because I wasn’t. And Adam was a symbol in all this, no longer a person. He symbolized what happened when I put my self-interests first. When I chose my happiness over the happiness of someone I loved.

Thank god you’ve spelled this out for the 12th time in case we all got concussions between each chapter

“I’ve gotta be a special kind of wicked to not give a shit that a part of me is dying out there in the world.” “We’re all dying, Raven. Don’t let that guilt eat at you.” “Yeah, but some of us are being murdered,” he challenged. “And there’s nothing I can do about it.”

No one is being murdered in the book right now though, Raven is just being dramatic like every other page in this whole thing

“Do I need to say I’m sorry?” My voice shook. “No,” he said through quivering lips. “You never have to apologize for giving me what I need, Clint.” We complemented each other, because I wanted to take selfishly, and he wanted to be selfishly taken.

Clint just raping Raven while he’s upset about his mom is super unpleasant. Raven’s actively fighting the whole time and asking him to stop, and there’s zero check in or discussion. It’s not like the other pseudo consensual non consent scenes and there’s no indications of encouragement. If this continues to be romanticized and not addressed as different than the other scenes then that’s a huge issue

“We’re already on our third sick day.” “So what’s one more?” He snuck a hand below the sheet with grand plans of convincing me.

Fucked into homelessness would be a nice kick for this

I should’ve treated that moment like it would be our last. Because after that morning, everything changed.

Ugh yeah sure whatever

I played with the stack of mail there, tempted to open my letter from Joey before Raven got home.

Ope Ope Ope please do it let something happen in this horny dramatic book

A fully decorated tree lay on its side, the stocking over the fireplace with my name on it torn in half. A pie clung to the wall behind the dining table, and a menacing note perverted the air. The exterior was Christmas on steroids, but I’d walked into a house in shambles, filled with a sense of foreboding.

Good

“Read it,” he slurred, making it a threat. A threat to my heart. A threat to our love.

Hahahaha.

He swiped spittle from his chin. I wanted to gather and store the bit that made it onto my cheek. It would be all I had left of him when this was over. I wanted to weep as it soaked and vanished into my skin.

JFC

reducing me to a walking grenade of trauma detonating on the world all willy-nilly. He was hurting, so I didn’t take the war on my character personally, but it was fucking hard not to when his words were driving my body underground.

Willy-nilly. I can’t.