Good Girls Bad Guys (A Ronnie Radke Fanfiction)

Discovery

*Katrina*

"So, Katrina, where ya from?" Derek asks.

I think about my background, my history, all they don't know. All they'll probably never find out.

"Here," I respond. "I've lived here for most of my life."

"Where did you live before here?" Jackie asks.

"Next town over," I reply with a forced laugh. Because it's the truth, that's where the correctional facility was...

"Cool," Derek says. "What's your full name?"

"Katrina Ryder," I tell him.

"What, no middle name?" Ryan says, and I blush.

"It's stupid," I admit, "So no, I don't have a middle name."

"Oh but you just said you did," Ron teases. "You gotta tell us now."

"Ugh," I sigh, and lean my head back against the wall. "My middle name is Clarity."

"Katrina Clarity Ryder," Max says. "I like it." Everyone agrees except Ronnie. "Don't you like it, Ronnie?" Max asks, nudging him.

"No," Ronnie replies, and my heart sinks. Then he says, "I absolutely fucking love it."

*Ronnie*

I look at Katrina, and all I can think about is her lips on mine. I know I let myself linger longer than I should have, that I should have pulled away, whatever. But the way her lips felt... It was exhilarating. More so than any drug I'd ever taken.

I loved it, and I want more.

Then go get more, I hear me telling myself.
Sweep her off her ass and carry her into your room.
Kiss her.
Do it, take her in your room.
You know you want to.
Take her into your room and take off all her clothes.
Bite on her, suck on her, lick her.
Make sweet, intoxicating love to-

I shake my head of those thoughts and absently hear Max asking me if I like something. "No," I say, thinking about making love to this girl.

But then I see Katrina's face fall, and I immediately say, "I absolutely fucking love it." She brightens, and that makes me happy.

"Hey, Kristina, what are some things you like?" I ask.

"Um..." She thinks. "I fucking love fruit snacks," She says.

"Ronnie does, too!" Ryan says.

"Really?" She asks, looking at me. I don't look into her eyes - intoxicating blues that suck me in - but instead I focus on her lips.

"Yeah," I reply, thinking about how she tasted; like she had rubbed sugar on her lips. They were sweet, with a tang of fruit punch.