The F King: A Bad Boy Romance (Still a Bad Boy Book 3)

by Ada Scott

  The closer I came, the more the movement of her body hypnotized me. The music was too loud to talk, all the initial communication had to be body language, but I was used to that. I’d have to fuck her with my eyes for a while before I made those perfect tits bounce as I powered my cock into her. That was half the fun, anyway.

  Under cover of the music, I stealthily worked my way next to her, dancing half-in and half-out of her group. She glanced at me again, did the full body scan and flashed me a smile before dancing a little closer.

  One of her friends, a short blonde, fanned herself and whispered to a taller brunette, who nodded and looked over at the two of us as our dancing got closer and closer. Blue-eyed innocence turned in my direction and danced facing me for a minute or so, flashing me a smile bright enough to melt my face off before turning away.

  I let my breath out through pursed lips slowly, and realized I’d sold this girl short when she walked past my booth. She might have been the sexiest woman I’d ever laid my eyes on.

  I had to lay my hands on her too. I needed to feel that perfection, press myself against her, and later she’d be wrapped around me moaning like a whore. Oh yes, I’d make this princess forget everything she ever learned about courtship and romance. The only thing on her mind would be my rock-hard cock by the time I was done.

  Speaking of which, the way this girl was moving was starting to get me down that path already. I reached out and put my fingers on her hip as we danced. When she didn’t push me away, I rested my entire hand there, and pulled her closer.

  The scent of her shampoo and perfume wafted up at me, and I sucked it all in as we moved to the music. I bet her skin tasted sweet, just like that smell of vanilla. I couldn’t wait to run my tongue across every square inch of it, to watch her body react to everything I did.

  From this vantage-point, I had the best seat in the house for looking down her top at those unbelievable tits, especially when she raised her arms up over her head and stroked my shoulders. The inevitable happened; her ass bumped against my semi-erect cock, trapped down one leg of my pants.

  Instead of pressing harder against it, like every girl in living memory, she jerked away as if she’d been zapped by static electricity. So she was playing hard to get, huh?

  With a smirk, I pulled her back and enjoyed feeling her struggle with herself more than with me. She liked the way that big cock felt, she liked knowing that she was sexy enough to get me excited, but her friends were right there, and she didn’t want to look like a slut. How adorable.

  I let myself enjoy a few more grinds against her, as one song faded out and another began to fade in, before I decided to put her out of her misery. For now. I turned her back towards me.

  “Hey, I’m Ryan,” I said.

  “Sarina.”

  “You wanna take a break and sit with me for a while? You look like you’ve worked up a thirst with all those moves.”

  A thirst for my hard dick, you sexy little bitch.

  “Um… yeah, sure. OK,” she said, with such obvious nerves that her cuteness factor went through the roof.

  If she kept on teasing me like this I’d have to fuck her before we even left the club. I knew the place well enough that there were, from experience, a few dark spots you could get away with it if the girl was hot enough to risk it.

  Sarina

  Well, getting his attention was a little easier than I thought it was going to be. He was hot on my trail from my second pass of his table.

  The problem was, maybe he was a little too hot on my trail. I needed to catch his eye to make him think that he was the one who initiated contact, but I was always supposed to steer the relationship down a professional path. Money and drugs, that’s what I had to pretend to want.

  My CO said to gain his trust by any means necessary, but what Ryan wanted was written as clear as day, playing out like a movie behind his eyes. That was crossing some lines, for sure.

  So why did I stay on the dancefloor for so long? Why did I let it feel so good to have his eyes on me like that?

  I could feel a little tingle on my body everywhere his eyes roamed, as if from gentle fingertips exploring my skin. More than once I found myself leaning back to let those imaginary fingertips explore down the front of my top, before my ass brushed up against that concealed weapon in his pants and snapped me out of it.

  What was wrong with me? Guys had looked at me before without me turning into a music-video girl for them, right?

  Yeah, but not like that…

  Shut the fuck up, self.

  “Hello?” Ryan interrupted my internal debate before it came to blows.

  “Huh?”

  “I said, is Champagne OK with you?”

  “Oh. Sure, why not? Are we celebrating something?” I asked.

  “I’ll come up with something by the time we get to the toast.” He turned to the girl standing there with a little notepad. “That’s a yes, thanks, Cindy.”

  The girl underlined something, smiled, and left, giving Ryan one last lingering look over her shoulder.

  “Sarina, right?” Ryan asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Great, wanted to make sure I wasn’t accidentally calling you somebody else’s name all night.”

  “Much appreciated. And Ryan, right?”

  “Mmm. It sounds so good when you say it. Yep, that’s me.”

  I rolled my eyes playfully. “You go to college at Highston?”

  “Nah. I did, but I’m out now. You? Freshman?”

  “Yeah, don’t tell the bouncer though. I’m twenty-two, but the girls I’m with are all eighteen and nineteen.”

  Ryan held up three fingers like a Boy Scout. “Your secret is safe with me. Why the late start?”

  “Late start at college?”

  Ryan nodded.

  “Ah, it’s a sad, shitty story. In a nutshell, I had to get away from everything. I could see my life taking a dead-end path, and if I didn’t make a change, I was afraid I’d wake up one day and find it was too late to make something of myself. So I sold everything I didn’t need, raised about twenty bucks,” I laughed, “and enrolled here. I had this idea that I’d figure out how to pay for everything as I went, but now I’m here, it’s a bit scary.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine, you’ll figure it out. What are you studying?”

  “Human Resources.”

  Ryan half-stood and shuffled his way around the table until he was right next to me. “I didn’t quite catch that,” he lied, “did you say Human Resources?”

  “Um… yeah.”

  I tried not to be too distracted by the way his leg was touching mine, or the way his self-assurance wafted around me like his subtle cologne. Confidence like that only came from a long track record of getting what you wanted. Right now, I could tell he wanted me.

  The girl came back with a bottle of Champagne in a bucket of ice and two glasses. She poured them while I smiled politely at her and Ryan ignored her completely. It was hard to keep it together under the intensity of his attention.

  No man had ever been so overt with his intentions for me before. I didn’t know how exactly something like that could be quantified, but I was sure of it nonetheless.

  Don’t you dare forget who you are, Sarina Beckett.

  I wasn’t going to. Of course not. I hadn’t sacrificed too much for my career just to throw it all away for the sake of some low-level drug pusher. Even if he was dressed like a millionaire and smelled like heaven itself.

  On the other hand, I did have to hold his interest, had to walk that fine line between too far and not far enough. There was no law that said I couldn’t enjoy the attention a little bit.

  Ryan picked up both glasses and handed one to me. I accepted it and let myself look him right in the eye.

  Before men realized I was a cop, I knew how to handle a firearm, and I could probably take them down if it came to it, they usually complimented me on my eyes. If I had a gun to my head and somebody forced me to say something nice a
bout my body, they were what I would blurt out.

  Of course, after, they realized all that, they went off to find some dainty little piece of arm candy and I went back to focusing on my career. Ryan would have more reason than any of them to back off even faster if he knew the truth, but it was nice to look at him and see him looking back.

  He had the kind of eyes a girl could get lost in too, if I did say so myself, and he never broke our connection as he clinked his glass against mine. I thought I could vaguely feel his hand on my leg, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away to double-check.

  “So, Sarina, to Human Resources. What would you use me for?”

  Ryan smiled at his thinly-veiled innuendo before taking a sip of his drink, and I blushed before taking a sip of mine. Thankfully, my color-change was probably masked by the dynamic nightclub lighting.

  Hello? Wake up, Sarina!

  I swallowed, shook my head a little, and looked down. Yes, his hand was on my leg. Not on the knee either, but right by the hem of my short skirt, which had ridden up when I sat down.

  I gently moved his hand away, and was rewarded by an almost comical flash of confusion across his face. It was brief, but it was there. Then he smiled the way a cat smiles at a mouse. My heart was beating so fast as I took another sip.

  “Not sure, what are you good at?” I asked.

  Ryan laughed. “You’ll see. You staying on campus, or found your own place like the mature student you are?”

  “Nah, I’m getting the whole freshman experience, staying in the dorms. Cumberland, you know it?”

  “Hey! I stayed there my freshman year too. Oh man. You’re gonna hate it.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You just get in today or something?” he asked.

  “Yesterday. It seems nice enough.”

  “What did they give you for dinner?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “They called it South African beef with rice, why? It wasn’t made from homeless people, was it?”

  “I don’t think so, no, but it was probably about as South African as Neptune is, and just you wait. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the next day, but within the week, you’ll see South African Beef with Rice on your plate again, only it’ll be called something else, and it’ll look like it’s been drying out in the fridge for a few days. Black bean beef, I think, was a common one. Beef stroganoff, where they add gravy, was another.”

  “Oh no…”

  “Oh yeah. One time, they gave us what they called breaded schnitzel, but it was really just strips of leather in breadcrumb-colored gravel. The knives they give you in the cafeteria are too blunt to get through it. You could make a bear-proof suit out of it, I’m telling you.”

  Ryan casually draped his arm over my shoulder and took another sip. I glanced down and saw how perilously close his fingertips were to brushing against my right breast, and was ashamed at how hard it was to fight down my excitement.

  If I breathed too deeply, his fingers would touch the bare skin of my chest. My hammering heart demanded deep breaths. I was caught between a rock and a hard place. I wanted him to be interested, but I didn’t want to screw up the whole investigation. So many rocks and so many hard places.

  What I needed right now was the ability to control my heartbeat like those people who competed in the duathlons, skiing and then shooting. Ryan showed me no mercy, in fact he seemed to enjoy my predicament, talking at length about the paper-thin walls in the dorm rooms and how you could hear everything your neighbor got up to, and general dormitory hijinks.

  With all the care I could muster, I delicately moved his arm off my shoulder and shuffled away just far enough so that our legs weren’t touching.

  “Hey, Ryan, you seem really nice and everything but-”

  “I’m not,” he grinned devilishly.

  “Um… but I’m really just out with the girls tonight, trying to get my bearings in a new city and figure out how I’m going to pay for it all, you know?”

  Ryan glanced at the dancefloor and chuckled. “Looks like your friends have a different idea about what tonight was for.”

  I looked over and saw Sally engaged in a deep tongue battle with some guy, while Violet, clearly not the shrinking variety, was practically getting fucked out there. You could call it dancing, but… so much for chicks before dicks.

  When I looked back at Ryan, I saw his arm was behind me again, but resting on the back of the seat instead of over my shoulder. He was leaning in.

  My traitor reflexes made me lick my lips and froze me in place instead of leaning away. I started stammering.

  “I’m… I’m not like them, though, I can’t…”

  He was still leaning in. I was still not leaning away. What would it feel like to have a man’s lips on mine?

  “Stop.”

  He paused.

  “This is all too quick for me… I need to take things slow. Maybe I could get your number? I really need to get myself settled in and stable with some kind of income first.” I had to redirect the flow of this situation, and fast. “Hey, I- I saw you come in and some guy gave you cash. You selling something?”

  Ryan gave me a funny look and then leaned back, his brows knitting together as he scrutinized me. Shit. The line I had to walk was that narrow and I’d just screwed everything up.

  Ryan

  Fuck. She was a cop. That was, what, the third time she’d brought up needing to make money in the brief time I’d been talking to her? This last one was just so blatant.

  That explained a lot. It had been a long time since a woman had played so coy with me. “Not that kind of girl, I need to take things slow.” Yeah right. That kind of girl didn’t exist in my world.

  I’d been sloppy. Concentrating so hard on taking down the Acardi family, I’d become too used to the lifestyle that my position afforded me. I’d had too much fun and at some point I’d come up on the police radar, or was it the DEA?

  Either way, it didn’t matter. It was a wake-up call for sure. I was going to have to rein myself in, keep a lower profile until I pressed the button on what I was privately referring to as Operation House of Cards.

  Son of a fucking bitch. It was all going so smoothly, too. The lab was running like clockwork, the Acardis were paying me eye-watering amounts of money, and unknowingly funding their own destruction. All the chess pieces were almost exactly where I wanted them.

  Clearly, I’d been celebrating too early, though. Blinded by all the pussy and respect I was getting. Well, I wasn’t the first man that had happened to, and at least it wasn’t too late for me. They didn’t know I was The F King, otherwise they’d have sent a SWAT team instead of this pretty little thing.

  Sarina was back-pedaling like her life depended on it. “Um, I mean, don’t worry about that, it’s none of my business. I actually got an application form to see if I can get a job here.”

  Such a shame, because even if she was a cop… she was still the sexiest girl I’d seen in real life with my own two eyes. You can’t go deep enough undercover to fake that. She was sex on legs.

  What my brain said to do was tip an imaginary hat at her and tell her to have a delightful evening before I left, but my cock had other ideas. I was still semi-hard from our bump and grind on the dancefloor, and teasing her while she flashed the innocent-blues at me.

  Lord forgive me, but I still wanted to see what she looked like with my cock inside her. It’d never happen but, fuck it, I’d already spoken to her, what was the harm in a little more?

  I’d take her to one of the club’s semi-private areas, and play a game of undercover-slut-chicken with her, see how far I could get before she bailed on it and had to report back that she couldn’t continue the investigation.

  Maybe I could get my cock in her mouth, and she’d have to leave the club while trying to avoid any areas with black lights, because if she started sucking my hard dick, you can bet she was going to finish the job and wear some evidence. That brought the smile back to my face, which seemed to relax her a bit.


  “No problem,” I said, and leaned forward again. “Listen, why don’t we-”

  “Hey! You Ryan Crewe?”

  I looked up and saw two guys who couldn’t have been less welcome at this point. The sloppy tats and shitty clothes were a dead giveaway that they were in the Cannibals street gang, who thought they owned this city. It never rains, but it fucking pours.

  “Yeah. Excuse me for a minute,” I said to Sarina.

  Scooting all the way around the booth so the hottest undercover cop in the world didn’t have to stand up, I got to my feet and ushered both of them away from our table. I glanced back and saw Sarina was doing her best to look casual, but she was straining to hear us.

  She wasn’t as frightened of scary-looking motherfuckers like this as any normal woman would be. Fuck.

  “Keep your voices down,” I said.

  The two of them looked at each other as if I was crazy. Then the guy who had first spoken, the designated leader of the night I guessed, piped up.

  “Yo, we heard you can get your hands on some F, that right?”

  “Sorry, guys, I’m all out for the night,” I said.

  “Oh, so you can get it, though? Well, let’s go get some more, fucker. We’ll drive you.”

  Before I could even say anything, they each took a step in my direction and reached for me. I backed away, avoiding their grasp for the time being as righteous fucking indignation swelled up.

  “Fuck off, shit for brains.”

  It was probably not the most diplomatic thing to say, especially to these kind of people. When they weren’t getting high or committing petty or violent crimes, they were always whining about respect, but I sure as fuck didn’t respect them.

  “You wanna die tonight? OK.”

  The talkative one aimed a straight right in the direction of my chin, but I dodged to the left and countered with a straight right of my own that caught him flush in the nose. I saw the blood beginning to flow already as he staggered back and bumped into some girl at the edge of the dancefloor. Sarina was standing by our booth, looking like a deer in the headlights.