The After Party (A Badboys Boxset)

by Karr, Kim

  “Fuck!” he called in a shout that matched my cry, and I knew then that he, too, was coming. He murmured my name, over and over, a little louder each time.

  Hearing it made me feel like my blood was singing.

  Once we were both spent and gasping, he shifted his weight off me and rolled onto his side.

  I turned to face him.

  We stared at each other for at least five minutes.

  My hand caressed his cheek. “Talk to me,” I said. “What are you thinking?”

  He kissed my fingers, each of them, and held my hand tightly. “Do you trust me?”

  There was only one answer to that question. “Yes.”

  Without hesitation he gathered me close and breathed into my hair. “I don’t think Michael or his family are who you think they are.”

  I didn’t miss that he called him Michael and not O’Shea, as if to soften the blow. “I know,” I whispered.

  Logan shot up. “Did he do something to you?”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t tell him about Michael’s proposition. Not in the state of mind he was in right now, but I did tell him about Heidi and the note I’d found in her drawer.

  “You need to stay away from him.”

  I took his hand. “I can’t do that, Logan. I’m worried about Clementine.”

  “Do you think he might hurt her?”

  Panic started to creep into my soul. “No, not physically. But emotional scars can be just as devastating, and I couldn’t live with myself if I allowed that to happen. We have to find out what’s going on.”

  “We will.”

  “Do you promise?”

  Logan gathered me close once again and brought us down to the pillow. “Whatever it takes.”

  Whatever it takes, I repeated to myself, and then I leaned in to kiss him but found myself rubbing my face against the stubble on his jaw. I wanted to memorize every single thing about him. The angle of his jaw. His scent. The feel of his skin. His touch. The way his mouth curved at the corners. His lips. The things I’d struggled with trying to visualize exactly right the last two nights—I knew I’d never allow myself to forget again.

  Whatever it takes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  DAY 33

  LOGAN

  The workday was over, but at the same time it was also just beginning.

  I’d already removed my jacket and was loosening my tie when I pulled open the boutique door.

  Elle was deep in concentration, sitting on the stool behind the cash register, counting the money in the drawer. She glanced over and held a finger up. “Would you turn the ‘closed’ sign around?”

  I did as instructed and made my way across the wooden boards with slow, deliberate steps until I reached her. “I think you’ve forgotten something,” I whispered in her ear from behind.

  She nudged me with her elbow. “Two hundred, one, two, three, four, three hundred.”

  “Like a hello.”

  I couldn’t see her face, but I knew she was grinning.

  The pull and surge of sexual tension was thicker than ever between us. Yesterday we’d made up for the time we’d lost over the weekend. We also probably had one of the most candid discussions about O’Shea we’d ever had. I thought she was finally on the same page as me when it came to the kind of man he really was. If she wasn’t yet, I was pretty certain she would be after tonight. We’d agreed we were both all in, which meant I wasn’t going to try to protect her from the cold, harsh truth, and the reverse was also true.

  Tonight would be her first hands-on experience with the investigation that was already well under way. I was meeting with the guys and we were going to discuss what came next. I’d already told them about Blanchet and the acidifier. I also told them about what Elle had seen in O’Shea’s study. There was a very likely chance the missing drugs were in his possession, but we needed proof before Blanchet would make her move. There was also the issue of Clementine. Elle was worried about what would happen to her and asked that I wait before saying anything to Blanchet until she’d secured her role as Clementine’s guardian. That was a tall order, because who knew what he’d do? At the same time there was more to all of this, and waiting until we could figure it out wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. There was something bigger here—I just didn’t know what.

  My patience wore thin as I waited for her to finish. My need for her attention seemed to mount with every passing second. Who the hell she had turned me into I didn’t know anymore, but at the same time I felt more alive than I’d ever felt in my life.

  Dropping her off this morning to go into work wasn’t easy. After everything that had happened, I wasn’t ready for us to be apart. I drove her to the boutique since we had something to do after work. It made sense, and I really wanted to be with her as much as possible.

  When I couldn’t wait any longer, I nipped at the soft skin of her neck. “I don’t like being ignored,” I growled.

  Elle switched from the stack of twenties to the stack of tens, but I knew she was very aware of my presence because the wobble in her voice gave it away. “Five hundred, ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, sixty, seventy—”

  Her stool was a red leather swivel one from Italy. The showroom had become populated with leather items similar in nature. She kept counting, but as soon as she set the pile of tens down, I snagged her wrist before she could pick up the fives and turned her toward me.

  She swatted me across the ass. “Now I have to start over.”

  “Hey now, don’t tease,” I warned.

  Those emerald-green eyes almost gleamed when she looked at me. “Hi, you’re early.”

  She was incredibly beautiful, and for a few moments I couldn’t believe she was mine. Long enough that I had to pull in a breath, because I’d forgotten to breathe. “I have a lot of making up to do,” I confessed, instantly turning the moment from flirty to serious.

  My guilt about what I’d put her through over the weekend wasn’t going anywhere. I did have a lot of making up to do.

  She looped her arms around my neck. “Stop saying that. It wasn’t your fault.”

  I leaned down and kissed her long and hard. I loved the taste of her, not just the cherry flavor of her lip gloss but also the actual taste of her tongue and her mouth. We were both breathless before I pulled away. “I want to take you to eat before we meet the guys. What do you need help with?”

  “I just need to finish the deposit and turn everything off.”

  Something caught my attention in the case beside us and my eyes darted to it. The glass cabinet held the sex toys display and the shelves were completely full. Diamond dildos, platinum vibrators, strings of pearls, and some things so exotic I wasn’t even sure what they were called. “You received the snakeskin handcuffs from Singapore?” I asked, raising a suggestive brow.

  She glanced toward the case, chewing on her lip. “Yes, everything arrived early this morning.”

  Three steps and I was in front of the unlocked case and opening it. One reach and the cuffs were in my hand. I turned around with a rueful smile on my face. “I’d like to purchase these.”

  She gave me a contemplative look and bit her lip. “Sorry, I’ve already closed out the drawer.”

  I took the one long stride that separated us and closed the distance. “Surely, there must be a way I can pay for these.” I dangled them in the air.

  A weary aspect had entered her eyes but I tried to push her past it.

  “We could barter.”

  Another smile prodded my lips. “Barter, as in trade?”

  She breathed very close to my mouth. “That’s what the early traders intended the word to mean.”

  Amused, I replied, “I’ll bite. What are you looking to receive in return for the goods in question?”

  “Funny you should ask, because we also just got these.” She turned on her heels and opened the glass case. On one of the shelves there was a stack of silk pieces of cloth in different colors. She picked up the red one and held it
in her fingers. “Control.”

  I raised a brow. “Control?”

  She gave me a slow nod. “Control.”

  I laughed, almost sardonically. “Christ. I don’t think I can do that.”

  Elle gave me an impassive shrug and took the cuffs from my hands. “Okay then.”

  Just as she was putting both items in the case, the click-clack of high heels told me either Rachel or Peyton was coming up the stairs.

  I snatched them from her fingers quickly and searched for her purse. It was where it always was, under the cash register. I shoved them inside.

  “Do we have a deal?” she asked.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Again the impassive shrug and I had to admit, my cock twitched. She was turning me on and I hadn’t even agreed.

  Peyton was standing at the top of the steps just as I tucked Elle’s bag back in place. Her coat was on, her purse was on her arm, and I thought maybe, just maybe, the conversation about my new look would be bypassed. But in case it wasn’t, I had my story down. After all, I did have to recite it with my pop’s friends and my clients numerous times throughout the day.

  As soon as she hit the main floor her jaw dropped. “Logan, your hair!” Peyton exclaimed in shock. Today her own hair was tinged blue, which matched one of the shades in her multicolored coat and earrings. She looked a little Smurf-like, but what did I know about fashion?

  With one hand tightly gripping Elle’s, I rubbed my head with the other. Declan hadn’t informed Peyton about anything that was going on. It was safer for her that way. “I lost a bet,” I said with a slight forced grin.

  “You look like Jax Teller when he got out of jail.”

  If only she knew how close she was. Still, I had no idea who she was talking about, and I gave her a puzzled look. “Sorry, Peyton, but I’m not sure who he is.”

  “Charlie Hunnam from Sons of Anarchy.”

  My look remained the same.

  She shot a glance toward Elle, who also shrugged.

  “Never mind. I guess neither of you are a fan,” she said, almost exasperated.

  A mirror was on the counter near me and Peyton pulled out her lipstick and came a little closer. “Oh my God, Logan, your eye. What happened?”

  Elle squeezed my hand and then turned around to finish counting. I knew she didn’t like lying to Peyton, even if it was for her own good. “A boxing gym mishap. Nothing to worry about. I’m fine,” I told her.

  “Same day you made the bet?”

  “Yep.” I kept it short.

  “Looks like you lost all the way around.”

  I said nothing, just grinned.

  Beep. Beep.

  “That’s my mother. We’re on the hunt for the perfect wedding dress.”

  “Wedding dress?”

  “Her mother’s getting married,” Elle laughed.

  And if that news didn’t make me feel completely out of it! I knew I had disconnected over the last couple of weeks, but I hadn’t realized just how much.

  “In like two weeks,” Peyton said, rolling her eyes. “Nothing like short notice, but when love hits there’s no denying it.” She shifted her gaze to Elle, who was done counting the day’s receipts. “Isn’t that right?” She winked.

  Elle actually blushed, which I found adorable.

  Beep. Beep.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming! She’s so impatient. I have to run. Have a good night, you two.”

  “You, too,” I said.

  “See you tomorrow,” Elle called.

  Like a flash, Peyton opened the door and was gone.

  “Are you ready to go eat?” I asked, rubbing my stomach. I was starving.

  Just then the bells chimed and a young man wearing a news cap came in carrying a bouquet of roses. “Delivery for Elle Sterling.”

  “That’s me.” She smiled, and I could tell she thought they were from me.

  They weren’t.

  The kid walked over to her and handed them off. “Sorry I’m so late. You’re the last delivery of the day. Have a great night.”

  “You, too,” she said still smiling.

  “God willing,” he said, and I found his response completely odd.

  As if he knew what I was thinking, his eyes found mine, and he stared at me his entire trip back to the door. His eyes were icy blue and he had a familiar look about him, but I couldn’t place him. Under his cap, I could see he had dark hair. A black Irish, as my gramps would have called him.

  Elle picked up the card and when she read it, her face fell.

  “Who are they from?” I asked, suspicion in my voice that even I hated to hear.

  She slid the small card back into the envelope and set the flowers down. “Michael,” she said. “He just wanted to thank me for helping him with Clementine last weekend.”

  A noise escaped my throat and I couldn’t stop the wave of nausea that seemed to run through me. I took a deep, steadying breath.

  “Logan, don’t.”

  I looked away. “Don’t what?”

  “I can see you shutting down. You know he and I are going to come into contact with each other. It’s impossible to avoid him. Not if I want to keep seeing Clementine.”

  Infuriated, I tried to push the anger away. I pulled in another deep breath and tried to think of things differently. She didn’t ask to get the flowers.

  Okay, it still irked me, because she did get them.

  And I didn’t send them.

  Different take.

  She didn’t want him. She wanted me.

  And that was the truth.

  I let the air seep from my lungs.

  Elle crossed the room to the display of handheld satellite radios shaped like small purses from Japan that could really jam. Instead of turning off the one that was playing music, she turned it up. “Do you like to dance?” she asked out of the blue.

  I didn’t want to let her distract me. but I was tired of arguing about him. I had decided to trust her and until O’Shea could be sorted out, either as bad or worse, I had to stop my shit. I made a conscious decision then to let this go.

  For now, anyway.

  I leaned back against the antique counter that once sold tickets for a carousel in Vienna and watched her hips sway in the short black dress she was wearing. It made her legs look a mile long. “When I was in college I spent my summers in the Hamptons and my friends and I used to hit the clubs, but I haven’t done that in a while.”

  Her hands went above her head and her entire body started to move slowly.

  I pushed off the counter and made my way over toward her. I didn’t know the song that was playing, but it didn’t matter. When I got close enough, I offered my hand. “May I have this dance?”

  She smiled at me and her smile reached her eyes when she extended her hand. “I didn’t mean you had to dance with me.”

  I pulled her close to me, right up against my body. “I don’t have to do anything. I want to.”

  She bit her lip.

  My hands anchored her hips and we danced slowly in a circle, our feet moving half an inch at a time. She’d told me one time that she hadn’t gone to her prom. I could give her the prom. If someday she wanted something grander I’d bring her to the Met Ball. Fuck, I would give her everything she’d missed. I wanted her to experience it all.

  We moved well together, those two pieces of a puzzle that fit just right.

  After a while, I took it up a notch, changing moves from slow dancing to more dirty dancing. My thigh slid between hers and we continued to move together. Everything around us disappeared and it was just the two of us in our wonderland.

  Her hands slid from my shoulders up to cup the back of my neck. She rubbed the spot where once she’d been able to run her fingers through my hair. My hair was gone, but her touch was hot. I felt branded. Like she knew I needed to know we belonged only to each other.

  Heat flared where my groin rubbed against her lower belly. I had to kiss her. I slid my hands up her back to tangle in her
hair, and then I tipped her head back so I could slide my lips down her neck.

  She made a noise that had my hands skirting the hem of her dress, but I stopped myself. I didn’t want everything we did to end up in sex. I wanted to show her we could be together and not end up naked. It just seemed like the mature thing to do when one was trying to have a real, grown-up relationship.

  But fuck, it was hard to stop my fingers from twitching. She, too, was fighting the driving desire. I could tell. Her eyes were squeezed closed. Her lips were parted. And her nipples were like small diamonds protruding from the fabric of her dress.

  My lips found her ear. “When we make it to New York, I’ll take you to the Rose Bar. It’s a great place to go dancing.”

  She kept moving. “I think I’ve heard of it.”

  “Jeremy owns it. It’s a Jet Set property.”

  The lace of her dress flapped with our movement and somehow I managed to keep my hands at bay. “I had no idea he was that famous,” she joked.

  I laughed. “Not famous, just a friend.”

  “I liked all of your friends who came to be with you for Killian’s funeral. The way you talk about them I know they mean a lot to you.”

  They did.

  But then so did she.

  “And they liked you.” I slid one of my hands up to the center of her back between her shoulders and then dipped her low. I had to stop before I wasn’t going to be able to. I kept her there for a few moments and then pulled her back into my arms. “I hate to end this, but we should probably get going.”

  She was still gazing at me, biting her lip.

  My body was starting to react to hers and I felt my own lips part. I quickly let go of her and shook my desire off. “Come on, we don’t have much time to eat before we have to meet the guys. Where do you want to go?”

  Elle looked flushed. “How about the Hornet’s Nest?”

  I gave her a little tap on her ass. “Sounds great. Now let’s get moving.”

  Many choices in my life have been hard to make . . . none harder than passing on sex. Great sex. Sex with Elle . . .

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  ELLE

  “So it’s decided then?” Miles asked quietly.