Trademarked: Bad Boys Need Love Too

by Misti Murphy

  “That was quite some speech,” the reporter gushes. “I hope she sees this.” The camera pans to her, bright eyed like it’s Christmas morning and she’s just found the biggest gift under the magazine selling tree. A huge grin spreading across her face she gazes into the camera. “Bree, wherever you are, here at E! News we’re rooting for you two to get back together.”

  Tim whistles under his breath. “That’s a pretty epic apology.”

  “I know.” I sniffle, wiping my fingers under my eyes, but it’s the first time I’ve cried without overwhelming sadness and heartache. “That was award worthy.”

  “What are you going to do?” Tim asks.

  “Call him.” I almost feel giddy. Only not knowing what happened with Anabelle holds me back. Maybe there’s a reasonable answer to that though. “I’ll call him... but the premier...” I put my phone on the coffee table. He’ll be watching his film now, and I don’t know what I’ll say so I don’t want to get his voicemail. “I’ll call him first thing tomorrow.”

  “Is that speech going to bite him in the ass, do you think?” Callan asks. “He’s no longer eligible for Sexiest Bad Boy of The Year. He’s killed his brand. For you. Maybe even turned people off his new movie. No more bad boy with a magic dick.”

  “He still has a magic dick,” I tell him. “Nothing will change that.”

  “I really did not want to know that,” Callan grumbles. “But he’s giving up his award opportunity for you. And Tim’s right about the whole bad boy thing. There’s a certain appeal. That’ll affect his audience, right? His fit for certain roles?”

  “It’s a good thing we insured his brand along with his dick.” I turn to Tim. “Though I guess the circumstances might make it tricky to claim on.”

  “We’ll have his back,” Tim says. “If he claims.”

  “I have to go.” My heart is hollering for Parker. Two weeks without him and it’s seriously jonesing. I climb off the couch. I can’t wait until tomorrow. I need to see him. Now. Tonight. I’ll go to the theatre and... there’ll be screaming fans and paparazzi and chances of getting near him are slim. But I have to try.

  “Ah, hell no,” Callan says, dragging his gaze up and down my body as he pops my phone back on the table. I raise an eyebrow in curiosity. What are you doing with my phone?

  “No, you stink. And you look like something the cat dragged in.” Tim grabs my hand. “What you need to do is shower. Shave your legs and pits. Dab on a little perfume.”

  “Do your fucking hair,” Callan adds. “You’re going to have a visitor.”

  “What?” I gape at him, my heart starting to hammer.

  “I’d say you’ve got a good forty minutes to make yourself presentable.” Callan waggles his busy eyebrows. “I sent him the address.”

  “You didn’t.” I gape. “You don’t like him. You warned me.”

  “Yeah, well, he might have bought himself some brownie points this week. Now scoot.”

  “Okay.” I bolt for the stairs.

  “Wanna go down to the bar, Tim? Give them some privacy?” Callan’s voice follows me up to the landing.

  “Good idea,” Tim agrees. “I do not want to be here for this.”

  Parker’s really on his way? And I have less than forty minutes to turn back into a person. Slamming into the bathroom, I turn on the shower and attack the knots in my hair while I wait for the water to heat up. It takes twenty minutes at top speed to wash every inch and annihilate the prickly forest on my legs. I can barely concentrate on the task, my mind is all about Parker.

  Doing the mad dash to my room, I upend the suitcase that I hadn’t bothered to unpack yet in search of clean clothes. When I’d packed I’d sort of thrown whatever was at hand into my case. My sweats with the holes and the ice cream stain. Old comfy undies. T-shirts. A ribbed tank that I only ever wear around the apartment. Grabbing a pair of panties, I pull them on and shimmy into the tank. It’s long enough to come to mid-thigh. It’ll have to do.

  Dressed, I head back to the bathroom for a few precious moments with the blow dryer when the doorbell chimes. My heart catches. He’s here.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Parker

  Shuffling from foot to foot, I jab the doorbell again. I didn’t expect Bree to message me, but I’d hoped she’d heard my apology.

  The first phone call I received was from Brad, chewing me out over putting my career at risk. I told him he was fired. I’ll find roles because I’m good at what I do, not because of an image that’s no longer reality.

  Jeanie squeezed my bicep and told me to be patient as we’d taken our seats in the theatre. And then Bree had messaged me the address of where she’s staying, and I’d fallen over my seat in my rush to get up. I’d left Jeanie with Dutch. There was no way I could sit through the movie, knowing where Bree was.

  And now I’m standing on her doorstep. My palms are sweating, and my tie is too tight. What if telling the whole world I’m in love with her isn’t enough?

  The door swings in and she’s standing in front of me. I drink her in like a thirsty man who hasn’t seen water for years. The soft curves of her face, the tiny tremble of her bottom lip as she stares back at me, the slow sweep of her eyelashes to hide the wateriness of her gaze.

  “Hi,” she says softly, shifting from one bare foot to the other.

  “Hey,” I croak. It’s barely a breath of a word. Constricted by black silk and my heart caught in my throat.

  We stand there staring at each other. Seconds. Minutes. Her clothes are looser on her than they were two weeks ago, and there’s deep purple shading around eyes that are full of wariness. This pregnant silence between us makes it feel like there are miles between us.

  “Did you see the movie?” she asks.

  “You look good,” I say at the same time.

  She blinks and takes a step back from the door, knotting her hands as though she doesn’t know what to do with them. “Um, I should invite you in.”

  “I’d like that.” Her scent mingled with the smell of her shampoo grips my gut. I want to grab hold of her and never let go, bury my nose in her hair and breathe in her scent while I try to find the words to tell her how sorry I am for hurting her. I need to erase this gulf that’s between us. I thrust my hands into my pockets as I move into the space she vacated.

  “Coffee?” She tucks a few strands of damp hair behind her ear, and my fingers itch to trace her steps. But she’s not mine. I made that happen. And it feels a little like we’re strangers.

  “Please.” I follow her into the huge kitchen. Potted herbs decorate every counter. I lean against the farm style dining table and watch her as she fixes our drinks. Undoing the knot in my tie, I clear my throat. I can barely stand the distance between us.

  “I heard what you said. To that reporter,” she says, bringing our mugs to the table. Stopping in front of me, her gaze searches mine for any hint that I wasn’t completely truthful in what I said on the red carpet.

  “I meant it.” I take the cup from her and our fingers brush. It physically hurts to not pull her close and hold onto her. “I never should have hidden our relationship.”

  “Why did you? I mean I know you can’t be Bad Boy of the...”

  “Screw the title.” I place my cup on the table. “It doesn’t mean anything to me. I thought it did. I thought I was doing the right thing for my career. I thought it mattered, but it doesn’t. Not if it means losing you. I put my career before you, and I’m so sorry it took hurting you to realize that. You’re more important than that. I need you to know that. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Putting her untouched cup down, she rests her hand on my pec. I cover her hand with mine. Hope is creeping into my chest.

  “What about Anabelle?” Her voice wobbles. “Why were you with her that night? You told me you weren’t up for company, but you were with her.”

  “I was with Jeanie. And Dutch. Anabelle tagged along, and I offered to drive. That’s all.”

  “I saw her. At you
r apartment.”

  “She was,” I agree. “And so were the others. I know what it must have looked like, but I promise you it wasn’t the case.”

  She exhales deeply. “I didn’t want to believe it. But after you said... what you said, I didn’t know what to think anymore.”

  “I know. I’m sorry I made you doubt our relationship.” I tentatively touch her hip, but she doesn’t move away so I settle my hand there, holding her but not really holding her. Waiting for her to tell me whether she’s willing to give me a second chance. “I love you, Bree. Let me prove that to you. I’ll do whatever it takes—”

  “Parker,” she says, covering my mouth with her fingertips. My heart pounds. A smile curves her lips as she steps into me. “Kiss me,” she says. “Just kiss me.”

  Slipping my arm around her waist, I meld our bodies together. These past weeks have been hell, not being able to touch her. The warmth of her fills my heart. Stroking the hair away from her face, I lean in and brush my lips across hers. She clings to me as she parts her lips for my tongue. My hands travel her spine, grip her ass, and pick her up so I can feast on her mouth.

  She wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck while she meets every lick. Breathless little whimpers escape her.

  “I missed you, babe. Missed hearing your voice and seeing your face. Missed your smile. And your cookie. I was going stir crazy without you.”

  “I missed you too,” she punctuates each word with a kiss. “Need to get reacquainted.”

  “Which way?” I groan as her lips travel to suck on my earlobe.

  “Stairs.” She throws an arm out in the direction she wants me to go.

  I stride through the house and up the stairs, our lips locked. Stumbling on the last step we hit the wall and stick. Her hands roam my chest, pluck the buttons on my shirt. I grasp both her hands and hold them above her head, causing her back to arch and her breasts to push against the fabric covering them. I tug at the neckline, dragging it down as I bite and suck at her neck and collarbone.

  “I missed you,” I tell her boobs as I kiss the top of each swell. “And you.”

  “They missed you too.” Her voice is laced with humor and heat as she pushes into my mouth.

  “I’m going to give you both lots of attention,” I whisper as I work her bra straps down until her breasts spill free. I take my time licking and sucking their sweet points until Bree is shaking, her moans becoming desperate cries.

  “That room,” she says, pointing at an open door. “I need you.”

  I carry her inside, shutting the door behind us, and put her on her feet. I’m aching to love her, but I’m so hard and needy for her, there’s no way I’ll be able to take this as slow as I’d like. I grasp the hem of her dress and pull it up over her head. Her bra sticks to it, coming away at the same time. With both hands she slides my jacket off and pushes it to the floor. Her fingers move teasingly as she undoes the few buttons left on my shirt.

  When she reaches for my belt, I take over. I need to be naked with her. Dropping my pants and briefs, I gather her up and carry her to the bed. She bounces when I toss her onto it.

  Leaning back on her elbows, her knees drawn up and slightly parted, she stares up at me. Her tongue darts between her lips, and her gaze is so warm I bask in it. Never expected to find someone I would feel this way about. I want her in my bed every night, and next to me on my couch every evening, and in my kitchen so I can cook her breakfast every morning.

  “What are you thinking?” she asks.

  “About how much I adore you,” I tell her, kneeling on the bed in front of her. Gripping her ankles, I tug them apart. She still has her panties on. They’re not feminine or frilly or lacy.

  “They were the only ones I could find.” She hides them with her hands.

  “They’re sexy as hell.” I growl as I pull her hands away. The cotton boy shorts have cookies all over them, and right over her mound is a motif of cookie monster holding a cookie, with the word cookie above him. “Who knew cookie monster would be such a turn on?”

  Grinning, I hook my fingers into the waist and draw them over her hips and legs until she’s exposed to me. I stroke her slit with one finger. She’s wet, the shimmer coating her skin. “I fucking missed you, beautiful. I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that you are the only cookie for me.”

  “Parker,” Bree cries as I dip my finger into her tight hole. Her thighs shake, and her hands form fists in the sheet.

  I push into her slowly, relishing the feel of her. Craving her, I lean in to kiss her clit. One taste isn’t enough. I lap at her as I pump my finger in and out of her wet heat. Her arousal coats my lips and tongue, making me wild.

  She cries out so quickly, her hips bouncing and her inner walls squeezing around my finger as she comes.

  “Please, Parker,” she says, trying to drag me over her.

  Complying, I climb over her and rub my length against her entrance until she’s writhing under me. Christ, she feels so good.

  “I need the super cock.” She bites at my neck. “I want to feel as close to you as possible.”

  With a groan I sink into her. She takes every inch and cradles me as we linger over each other’s lips. Slow, I chant to myself as I start thrusting into her, but she wraps her legs around mine and her heels dig into my calves, urging me to pick up the pace. We move together, our gazes locked on one another. There might as well be no one else in the universe. People? What people? What universe, for that matter? There’s just Bree and the way she’s looking at me with so much warmth, and love, and longing.

  Her grip on my cock tightens as she reaches her peak. It shadows her eyes, and makes my dick swell even harder. It pushes me over the edge. I pump into her as I erupt, filling her with my seed. Her walls spasm as though my climax has triggered a hundred little orgasms inside her that milk me of every drop of cum.

  Rolling onto my side, I pull her into my arms. Spent, we collapse into each other. The fragrance of her shampoo, and the messed-up way her hair has curled make me smile as I press my lips to her forehead. “Move in with me.”

  “What?”

  “Move in with me,” I tell her. “Live with me, Bree. I want to share my life with you.”

  “Maybe,” she says.

  “Maybe, huh?” I tickle her ribs.

  “Perhaps not straight away,” she answers. “I’d have to find someone to take over the lease on my apartment. That might take a little while. But in the meantime, we can have lots of sleepovers.”

  “But it’s not a no?” I get it. She’s tentative. Things will change now that we’re not alone in our little bubble. It might take some time to get used to.

  “It’s not a no. It’s a not yet, but soon.” A smile equally as big as my own curves her mouth. Pushing me onto my back, she straddles me and rubs her wet slit over my cock.

  “You want more?” I grip her hips and grind her onto me.

  “Mind blowing sex? Always.” With a tilt of her hips she seats herself on my cock and begins to rock.

  “Good. I’m never going to get enough of you, babe. I’m going to be an old man...”

  “A hot old man.” Her lips part on a moan as I push into her harder. “Like Keanu Reeves or Gerard Butler.”

  “Exactly. I’m going to be a hot old man and I’m still going to be under you, watching your tits bounce as you ride me, and thinking I fucking love this woman.”

  “Is that so?” she asks breathlessly.

  Sitting up, I wrap my arms around her and kiss my way up the side of her neck. We move together slowly, purposefully, loving each other. “I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to live life without you. I don’t want to. The way you look at me, the way you feel in my arms. I don’t ever want these things to stop, so yes, I plan on loving you until there’s no air left in my lungs. I plan on telling you often and showing you even more often.”

  “I love you too,” she says.

  I grip the back of her neck and press her forehead to mine.
Her bright eyes sparkle with warmth and emotion. I take her lips tenderly. Linger over them. From this moment on I’m no longer the bad boy defined by his manhood. I’m defined by the woman I love and who loves me back.

  EPILOGUE

  Bree

  “Breezy?”

  I open my eyes. Parker’s asleep beside me, his body wrapped around mine.

  “Breezy?” Tim whispers.

  Sitting up, I find Tim staring at Parker and I, the door cracked enough to stick his head around. He has this dirty smirk on his face.

  I glance down. Oh shit. Snatching up the sheet, I whisper, “Oh my God, you perv.”

  “Oh come on, Breezy. You have nothing that interests me,” Tim says, eyeballing Parker’s naked body. “And how could I not take a peek at that hunk a hunk of burning love? You’re right. The camera adds nothing.”

  “Unbelievable.” I drape the sheet over both of us and yawn. “Is it morning?”

  “It’s like four a.m. Callan and I hit up a club after the bar. He’s passed out, so I’m going to head home and catch some quick ZZZs before I have to go to work. Call Malcolm, huh?”

  “Yep. I’ll do that.”

  “And call me later. Once you’re done banging your boyfriend,” he says as he starts to pull the door closed.

  “Actually.” I almost bounce off the bed, before realizing I can’t leave the sheet or take it with me. “Can you hand me that towel?”

  “Sure.” He snatches the terry cloth from the floor and tosses it at me.