The Bad Boy Arrangement

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The Bad Boy Arrangement Page 22

by Nora Flite


  LA was expensive, it drained my funds constantly. I'd have left if I could have. Frankly, between what I owed to Nehro and what I could barely make on my own, escape was impossible.

  But money wasn't the only reason.

  Money had gotten me in trouble. It was my guilt that kept me locked in this place.

  Sighing, I shoved the bitter thoughts aside. I'd been in this mindset too long, too many nights. My life sucked, it wasn't new to me.

  I was determined to fix it. I'd spent my years wasting away in clubs and at parties and with scummy men.

  I was done with all of that.

  Well, once I clear my debt... THEN I'll be done with all of that. Until then, I'd always be forced to interact with Nehro—and Reese.

  Flopping onto my back, I stared at the ceiling and smoothed the knots from my windswept hair. The tangles that had been caused by the wickedly liberating motorcycle ride.

  His motorcycle.

  Huxton, why are you so firmly in my head? Tapping my temple, I chuckled. Get out. Go back to wherever you came from. Where did he come from? The man was an enticing mystery.

  A mystery you are not about to solve, I reminded myself. He fit the picture of a guy with problems. I was no longer in the business of trying to fix broken men.

  Broken, damaged, sexy fucking men.

  Dammit.

  Running my fingers over my collar bone, down to my stomach, I felt the ghost of his warmth. If I shut my eyes, I could smell the leather and musk of his aroma. Huck couldn't be around me. I was too raw still, not ready to fight my desires.

  He'd given me his card... but I would never call him again.

  Unlike others, I could keep some promises. I was sure of that.

  Still, I mused, tracing my own bare thigh under my dress. He was something else. The way he moved, fuck. The way he felt, pressing between my thighs. Pushing my knees apart, I relived the lap-dance he'd given me.

  His methods were intense. He acted the whole time like he knew what he was doing to me. Maybe he had. Maybe he'd read every twitch and single breath I'd made, used it to make me crumble into shivering paste.

  His hands, his lips, his god damn thick cock.

  I'd hungered to feel it doing more than grazing over my panties.

  If that asshole—Kit—hadn't shown up, would we have broken down and gone for it? I kept assuming it was me who'd decide if we went all the way. What if Huxton hadn't been planning that? If I'd yanked my panties aside and begged him to fuck me, could he have said no?

  Inching my fingers down to the junction of my legs, I tugged at my underwear. No. He wouldn't have denied me. Maybe he'd have teased me, made me beg, but...

  He'd been so rock hard. No way he'd have resisted.

  Closing my eyes, I watched the colors behind my eyelids. Reds and yellows pulsed, reminding me of his tattoos. I had such a fucking weakness for tattoos. His were everywhere, even his hands and neck. A guy like that feared nothing. He didn't care if no one would hire him because of such overt visuals.

  Did he really make his money stripping?

  And protecting people like me?

  Shivering, I thought about his strength. Outlining my pussy, I slid my panties lower. I was already wet, though not as soaked as I'd been when Huck had gyrated his erection against me.

  Thinking about him... doing this... it was dangerous. A really fucking bad idea. I'll never see him again. It'll be fine. Plus, I hadn't gotten laid in over a month. My body was starving.

  Rubbing myself softly, I pictured his smile. That cocky grin. I hated it and loved it. The way it warmed me was unfair. He was a shot of whiskey in front of a recovering alcoholic. I wanted to slurp him down, to fill myself with him and forget the reasons I shouldn't.

  A moan escaped me, fingers sliding easily over my swollen clit. So much pressure, so much heat. I was going crazy with my need for release. There was tension in every limb. It spread lower, controlling my stomach, reaching into my cunt and stoking my fires.

  My fingers weren't the same as a cock—any cock.

  His cock.

  It had felt amazing, firm and fat and cruel. If he'd kept rubbing on me, I could have gotten myself off just from that.

  Panting heavily, I made small circles, teasing my clit. Dipping two fingers inside, I curled them, imagined they were his. It was a poor imitation, but it worked.

  Grinding onto my own palm, feeling his phantom lips on my throat, I moaned. Tingling down to my toes, I squeezed around my fingers, wriggled them quicker. Unable to wait any longer, I slid free and thumbed my sensitive button.

  His voice sank into my skull, filled the cracks of my brain. Inhaling, I smelled him—visualized him—and lost it. Wicked vibrations took over. My veins pulsed with not just blood, but electric need. Flexing with orgasm, I covered my mouth to muffle the noise.

  The last thing I wanted was to wake up Eliza.

  Trembling, laying in my sweat, I enjoyed the spasms of the lingering release. Liquid coated my inner thighs. I felt how wet I was, shoving my panties off my ankles and kicking them aside. They would be useless.

  What I really needed was a shower.

  A god damn, cold as ice shower.

  Closing my eyes, I put a pillow over my face and laughed bitterly.

  My life was a mess.

  I was a mess.

  And yet, as I swaddled myself in the not-innocent glow of climax and greed, I didn't care. I had let myself enjoy something that I shouldn't have. I'd gotten off to the existence of a man that rebelled against my common sense.

  Falling asleep with my hand still resting between my thighs...

  I just didn't care.

  Happy birthday to me.

  Rubbing my eyes, I growled at the rays of sunlight poking at my face. My window blinds were down, but that wasn't enough to make a difference. The sunny state of California was the enemy of late morning sleepers.

  It took a moment for my body to come alive. I felt the thumping in my skull, a sign I'd slept too late and not late enough. When blood hit my limbs, I shifted, realized my hand was still cupping my pussy.

  Blushing at the memory of what I'd done, I forced myself to sit up. Going to sleep with the sinful dream of Huxton in my head wasn't exactly conductive to my current plans. It's fine, no one knows but me. That wasn't much better. I was a judgmental jerk to myself already.

  Yawning, cracking my back, I threw my dress into my laundry basket. Changing into a soft, light-blue shirt, I grabbed a fresh pair of underwear, then some shorts, and slid them on. A quick check of my phone, searching for messages, I stuck it in my pocket.

  Wrapping a long cardigan around myself, I crept into the hallway. The wood floor was cool under my feet. “Eliza?” I called, traipsing into the kitchen. I didn't see her. The microwave claimed it was already noon. Had I actually slept that late? “Eliza, are you here?”

  Frowning at her absence, I grabbed an apple from the fridge. She'd left the windows open, the oddly warm December air floating inside the apartment. With it, I caught the sound of a voice.

  Curious, I bit into the fruit and started walking. Was Eliza in the backyard? I didn't blame her, if she was. It looked incredibly nice outside, and I bet the green grass and flowers would look gorgeous.

  Eliza was giving me a crazy deal on my rent. A room in a house like this was easily triple what she asked of me. While I didn't like hand-outs, I made up for it by cleaning and tidying up more than my share required. It was small, but it was what I could manage.

  Down the hall, I came to the sliding glass doors. They led to the back patio and the in-ground pool, an extra perk. I loved swimming, and wished that it was turning summer instead of winter, now that I had access to a pool every day.

  Pushing the door sideways, I stepped outside into the sun with my mouth partially full of apple. “Eliza?” I mumbled, her name wet and muffled. “Are you—”

  I never finished my sentence. How could I, with the scene before me?

  He stood there, a statue of
shining flesh in the bright sunshine. Like Eliza, who was stretched out on a chair in just her pink bikini, Huxton was wearing nothing but a bathing suit, too. A simple pair of tight, black shorts; they clung to him, leaving little to the imagination.

  Never mind that it was god damn 'winter' and they were tanning. I had bigger complaints to take up with the universe or whoever made things happen.

  Why the hell was he here?

  Eliza perked up, waving to me. “Zoe! There you are, good afternoon, sleepy-head!”

  The apple in my mouth became dry sand.

  Turning my way, Huck slid his sunglasses up his head. They perched in his shimmering hair, tufts poking out around the edges in a roguish way. How could Eliza recline so close to him and not melt like a Popsicle? “Mornin', beautiful,” he called to me.

  I shot my eyes to my roommate. She hadn't reacted to his pet-name compliment. She looked relaxed, enjoying the sun that kept proving it was stronger than the expected grey of winter. Crossing one knee over the other, she stretched. “Get your suit on, come tan with us.”

  Holding the apple like a weapon, I pointed it at Huxton. My voice was raspy, I was choking my mouthful of food down. “What is he doing here?” There was no softening of the accusation. Real, frustrated anger boiled up into my veins.

  They shared a look, Eliza pouting. “Wow, rude. I invited him over.”

  “Okay, but why?” Why would you call a stranger back here? I was aware of Huck watching me. I was fully clothed, but under his piercing greens, I felt exposed.

  Recalling how I'd woken up with my hand buried in my pussy, I turned beet red. This was not how I wanted to start my day.

  Shaking her chin, Eliza motioned up at Huck lazily. “Didn't I tell you? Huck and I go way back, we're old friends.”

  Jagged lightning rattled my brain. “You're what?”

  Huck laughed and said, “Friends. I hadn't seen her in awhile, though. I wanted to catch up with her after reconnecting yesterday.”

  “I didn't know you two already knew each other.” Watching him standing over her as she reclined, her looking gorgeous and so fitting at his side, a flicker of sick heat made its way into my stomach. No, nope. Don't feel jealous. Don't be dumb.

  Eliza pushed a fist to her cheek, smiling. “I definitely mentioned we knew each other. Remember, I had that old business card of his?”

  “That's not the same as telling me you have a history.” What kind of history? Clenching my jaw, I bit into my apple. Eating was at least productive. Being silly and envious was not.

  “You really didn't tell her?” Huck asked, shifting his weight to one side. The twist of his body made his abs pop, pulling me in helplessly. “What, are you ashamed of me?” Grinning, he lifted his hands in mock insult.

  Laughing, Eliza jabbed him in the knee. “Stop. I just didn't want to go into it.” Her voice lowered, a meaning that went unsaid. Huxton nodded, all humor gone as they communicated with just their eyes.

  Alright. Now I was suspicious.

  Chomping so hard that the fruit shot juice into the air, I sat down by the edge of the pool. I had a lot to absorb. I'd thought Eliza had just contacted Huck when Kit had vanished from the radar. Well, now I understood how she knew what he did for a living. His card was vague, she knew the reality.

  How had they met? Why didn't she want to go into it?

  Sighing, I turned my apple in my hands, my appetite fading.

  Plastic crinkled as Eliza shifted on the chair. “Anyway,” she said, “Now that you're awake, I can safely berate you.” Pointing, she wagged a finger. “Why the hell didn't you come back last night, Missy? Poor Huck had to entertain all our friends, and you weren't even here to take part in it.”

  Her pretend anger made me smile. Being chastised helped clear the tension. “Sorry, sorry. I got called into work.” Bouncing a pointed look at Huck that said 'do not say a word' I pushed on. “You know how I need the money. I couldn't say no.”

  “Alright. I guess that's a suitable excuse.” Wriggling her painted toes, she hopped up and headed for the door. “It's actually a little warm. I'll grab us some drinks.”

  The second she'd shut the glass panel, I whipped my glare to Huck and arched an eyebrow. “Okay, so, when I kept telling you I wouldn't call you, you knew the entire time you'd end up running into me anyway. Didn't you?”

  In the sun, his teeth glistened like polished ivory. “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “You're a real piece of work.”

  “Guilty as charged.” Chuckling, he swayed in my direction. I clutched my apple, feeling it give way under my harsh grip. “I'm sorry I didn't mention that Eliza and I were friends. Guess it never came up naturally.”

  Peeking at the door, I looked for my roommate. I didn't see her. “I'm more bugged by Eliza not telling me than you. It's a little weird to get a lap-dance from her...” I trailed off. In the time I'd spent spying for her to return, Huxton had closed the gap.

  His muscled legs were poised within reach. With the sun behind his head, Huck's face was cast in black oblivion. I felt the softness in his words, the way they rolled over me like velvet. “I'm Eliza's friend. Just her friend.”

  Had I been so transparent? “I don't care if you're more than that.”

  Lowering himself, Huxton balanced on his haunches, letting me see his face; that too proud grin. “I think you do care.”

  My eyes narrowed. I willed my heart to stop trying to climb out of my throat. “Why would I care about that?”

  He whispered, “Because you don't want to picture me with her. You want to imagine me with you.” His fingers scalded, resting on my cheek. Even though they never moved, I swear, his touch brushed me deep, cradling my core.

  This man was carnal lust made real.

  Summoning every bit of strength I had, I looked Huck in the eye. Then, slow and smooth, I rolled my gaze down to the shape of his cock in his swim-shorts. It was easy to see the outline, he had a semi-erection growing.

  Focus. Fucking focus.

  Lifting the apple, I waited until I was sure I had his attention. One more look at his bulge, and I bit into the fruit so violently, my teeth clipped together. Grinning smugly, I chewed and swallowed. “No, I don't think I want anything from you.”

  In front of me, Huck changed. Emerald eyes became stone, his fingers on my face turned to barbed wire. Before I could do anything, he slid his palm down, over my throat. We both felt my jugular pulsing. “Liar,” he growled. Further he went, stroking a finger into the neck of my shirt, tugging.

  Under the cloth, my nipples tightened into painful nubs. There was no hiding that, or how I breathed in like Huck was the only source of oxygen.

  His teeth reminded me of fangs as he smirked. “Oh yes, you're quite the liar, babe. But that's fine. We all lie a little bit.”

  Standing gracefully, he never took his hot stare off of me. Stroking himself once, he turned away and sat in a chair. Using his arm, he covered the sign of his excitement just as Eliza opened the door.

  “I hope lemonade is fine,” she said, dancing over, hugging three glasses. “We should go shopping soon, Zoe. We're running low on groceries.”

  I tore my attention from Huck, shaking myself, trying to remember what I'd been doing. “Huh?”

  “Lemonade. Shopping.” Blinking, she handed me a glass. It was deliciously cold. I was tempted to pour it over myself, or to jump in the pool.

  Instead, I looked down at the apple in my other hand. I dared to glance at Huck, not surprised to find him observing me. Tightening my jaw, I threw the core across the yard, letting it skid in the grass.

  I wasn't hungry for fruit anymore.

  - Chapter Five -

  Huxton

  Hours. Until the fucking sun rose.

  That was how long I'd thought about Zoe.

  I had a million questions. I needed to know more. For each minute we spent together, every answer she offered by mouth or action just raised new ones.

  Most of all, I wanted to know why
she was resisting me.

  It was resistance. It'll sound awful, but it was new to me. Women phoned me up to service them. I was entertainment, passion, and release. So why was this girl with her sharp words and juxtaposed moans denying me?

  Zoe wanted me, I knew she did. Had I done something to make her not like me? If anything, I'd stepped in and helped her. What offense had I committed?

  No. There was more to this story.

  After fitful hours of sleep, I took a shower, changed, and texted Eliza. It had been a simple message: I want to talk. Are you free?

  Her answer was just as basic. Come on over, let's catch up, stranger.

  My plan was a little sneaky. I knew Zoe lived with Eliza. Driving there, I broke the speed limit and risked getting ticketed by the cops. A stupid move, but my urges controlled my fingers on the throttle.

  We'd had one hour together before Zoe had interrupted us. During it, Eliza had pursed her lips and rolled her eyes too many times. It was obvious that my probing amused her.

  “What are you doing?” she'd asked me, “Trying to investigate the poor girl? This isn't like you.”

  No. It fucking wasn't. “How long have you known her?”

  Tugging her bikini strap, Eliza shrugged. “A month, give or take. She needed a room, I needed a roommate.” Darting a look at me, she hooded her eyes. “Zoe is a nice girl. Quiet, polite. Watch yourself with her.”

  I laughed. “What are you worried about?”

  She didn't budge, ever the concerned mother-figure. “Her boyfriend cheated on her. They split up, it was messy.” Turning towards the house, she studied the siding. “I know the kind of guy you are, Huck. I don't mind it. But I don't want to see her hurt, not after everything.”

  Ruffling my hair, I followed her eyes. I wished I had X-Ray vision. “If you thought I was such bad news, why call me for the party?”

  “I needed a stand-in dancer,” she teased. “I wanted to show Zoe a good time, let her shake loose and go a little wild. She's so buttoned up, like she's wearing this invisible straight-jacket.”

  That was where Eliza was wrong. I'd seen it behind those blue eyes; Zoe was holding back, but there was a part of her that ran deep with wickedness. I itched to peel back the covers and see what she kept tucked away.

 

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