I Need A Bad Boy: A Collection of Bad Boy Romances

by Sophie Brooks

  “Your glasses are pretty hot. I wouldn’t mind if you kept them on.”

  “—so how about you stop acting like a hormonal adolescent and tell me what’s happened to make you seek out therapy?” I was pretty proud of how unwavering I managed to keep my voice, despite his interruption.

  “And what if you’re wrong and that is why I’m here?” With a single, graceful movement, the rockstar look-alike sat up and swiveled around so he was supporting his elbows on his knees. He leaned forward a little and focused his unnerving gaze on me, and his smirk hiked up a little at the corner. “Then what do we do?”

  I suppressed a primal shiver at the almost predatory gleam in his eyes. No doubt he was used to women tossing their panties at him after being on the receiving end of that look—even I couldn’t help the small burst of desire it made trickle through my abdomen, and I was already distinctly unimpressed with his bad boy routine.

  “Then we have a very disappointing hour ahead of us, Mr. Steel, because that isn’t happening. If that were truly your intent, then your money would have been better spent on one of the ladies down on the corner. Even if they charge extra for role playing, I’m sure you could have gotten it cheaper than what this session will cost you. Now, are you quite done trying to intimidate me so we can get on with the session?”

  His smirk turned to a slow, full smile. “Mr. Steel now, is it? You can call me Blaine, love. My mother went out of her way to give me a, ah, special name, so you may as well use it.”

  “Do you have some resentment toward your mother?” I’m not gonna lie—I latched on to the mother angle with both hands.

  “Nah, she was a good woman.” Blaine pushed his fingers through his black, perfectly tousled hair and sighed.

  “You say was? When did she die?”

  He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Caught on to that one, eh? When I was ten, so about eighteen years ago now.”

  Finally. I’d found the crack in Blaine Steel’s armor. “How did she die?”

  Blaine frowned, his idling hand sliding from his hair down to the back of his neck. “Doesn’t matter. It’s a long time ago.”

  It was a clear dismissal. Everything from his tone to his suddenly darkening eyes told me that here lay trouble—which of course meant I needed to dig deeper. But as I’d pointed out to him before, this was just the initial consultation, where I was meant to learn more about a new patient before deciding on how to best proceed.

  “Tell me a bit about the rest of your family. Your father. Siblings, if you have any.”

  He sighed again, as if relieved to leave the subject of his mum’s death, and leaned back, arms spread out over the back of the sofa. “There’s not much to tell. My dad’s a strong leader, runs his business with an iron fist. He eventually remarried, and me and my five brothers joined the family business when we grew up.”

  He wasn’t telling me even close to the truth. I narrowed my eyes at him and pushed my glasses up higher on my nose. I’d always been pretty good at reading body language, which is partly why I chose to study psychology in the first place, and Blaine was easy to read. Tensed shoulders, jaw slightly lifted in challenge, and a hard look in his gray eyes—yeah, he was hiding some major family drama.

  “Why are you here, Blaine?” I kept my tone as light and gentle as I could, knowing that if I pushed too hard, he’d probably shut down, and I’d get treated to the delightful return of the cocky bastard who’d first sauntered into my small office.

  “Shit, I don’t know.” He flexed his hands and leaned forward again, grabbing his knees as if looking for some anchor. The tension vibrating off him was practically palpable. “My brother went to jail and it was really fucked up. He didn’t do shit, and I found out… I lost control. I nearly killed…” He looked up then, and straight into my eyes, and the torment in his gaze nearly knocked the breath out of my lungs.

  It lasted for maybe a fifth of a second.

  I could practically see the emotional wall slamming down the moment he realized he’d let me get even a sneak peak into whatever pain had made him desperate enough to seek out a therapist. Every part of his body tensed just a fraction, even as his face slid into a sardonic smile.

  “Blaine…”

  He let his gaze slide lazily up and down my body. “But then again, sometimes losing control is good. Isn’t it, love?”

  I gritted my teeth. I had been so close to seeing something real, but here we were, back to the arrogant bastard from before. It was funny, really. I’d known him for all of twenty minutes, and I was already sure that if I’d met him under any other circumstance than as a patient, I would not have walked away—I would have run. But he was my patient, and it was my duty to try to help him as best I could.

  “You’re using sexual innuendos to avoid talking about what’s bothering you. I’m sure it’s worked well for you so far, but let’s for a minute assume you came here because something happened that was so bad, you didn’t know what else to do. I know your type—you believe your masculinity lives in your ability to intimidate others and to never, ever show any hint of emotion. I get that being here goes against everything you’ve been brought up to believe in.

  “So I guess the only question left is—was whatever happened to make you seek out professional help so bad you’re willing to surrender all that attitude for what’s left of our session?”

  I was treated to what was quite obviously a rare sight—an array of emotions crossing Blaine Steel’s handsome face, morphing from shock, frustration and finally into anger—until his eyes narrowed ever so slightly and his expression slid into the now familiar mask of irreverence. Only this time, there was an unmistakable edge of irritation behind his stare.

  With the same ease as a big cat, he got up from the couch and strolled to the far wall where my diploma hung above a low bookshelf, back turned. “Attitude? Is that psychology-speak, then? I see you got your diploma at Liverpool John Moores University. Not exactly Stanford, is it?”

  Despite myself, I felt my temper rise. If there was one thing in my life I was proud of, it was that I’d managed to overcome my fucked up past and acquire a degree that allowed me to help people.

  “It’s a hell of a lot better than being a petty thief, or whatever you did instead of educating yourself.”

  I shouldn’t have let him get to me. And I especially shouldn’t have lashed out—not only because it was as unprofessional as it got, but also because that was exactly what Blaine wanted. I saw it in his eyes the moment he turned back around, smug triumph written all over his stupidly handsome face.

  “My, they do certainly educate quality shrinks up north, huh, love?” He walked over to my chair, all swagger, and it just made my blood boil all the more. “You’d think you at least were smart enough to keep your tongue in check. People have gotten hurt for a lot less than calling me a thief.”

  And there it was—the vocalization of the threat I’d seen in his eyes when I’d pushed him. No, he wasn’t a thief. His cocky attitude stemmed from something much more sinister than that.

  A burst of fear shot up my spine from that place deep inside where I had locked up all the horrible memories of what—and who—I came from.

  This man was the same kind I had grown up with. The kind that took what they wanted and didn’t shy away from using force to get it. Yeah, the kind of arrogance streaming off Blaine Steel was the kind a man attained when he was above the law.

  He was dangerous.

  The sudden spike of fear must have shown on my face, because some of the hardness in his gaze eased a little. He flicked his eyes up and down me again, then lowered his dark lashes halfway, focusing on my lips.

  “Not that I’d hurt a bird—even if she is a mouthy little bitch.”

  His hand grazing gently across my cheek made my anger well up again, eradicating my fear in a smoldering flood of rage.

  I smacked his hand away and flew to my feet. He was less than a foot away, and since I only came up to his shoulder, I had to crane my
neck back to glare at him. “Get out.”

  There was no mistaking the victory in his eyes as he cocked an eyebrow at me with such self-assured arrogance that it took everything I had not to slap him. “You’re really throwing me out of your office?”

  “Yes, I am,” I hissed. “And for the record, the next time you want someone to help you, you might get further if you show just an ounce of respect.”

  Blaine just smirked, obviously not the least bit bothered by my anger. “Respect, little dove, is not something I give out all that easily.” And then he put his hand on my arse and squeezed. “But maybe you could try and win it another way?”

  It was only that tiny voice of experience with men like Blaine at the back of my mind that stopped me from smacking the smirk off his face then and there. Instead, I stepped back and away from his touch so I could point at the door.

  “Get. Out!”

  * * * *

  Chapter 2

  Mira

  I have never been so thankful to reach the end of a work day as I was after my session with Blaine Steel.

  I was still muttering to myself while I sorted out the last bit of paperwork so I could leave for the day. I could still feel the ghost of his hand against my backside, as if his touch had left a tingling sensation of awareness behind.

  Which was partly why I was still angry. Not only had he made me completely lose my professional façade, but he’d also broken through all the walls surrounding my personal space and touched me. This arrogant prick, whom I’d loathed from the first moment I met, had put his hand on me.

  And part of me had liked it.

  I paused by the door and clutched at the knob as an echo of the shocking sensation of his hand against my arse made me shiver again. It shouldn’t have felt good, at all, and I was furious at myself for having any sort of positive reaction to that… that twat, even if it was purely physical.

  With a huff I turned the knob and yanked open the door. Clearly, it had been too long since I’d had a man in my life.

  The irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d gone to university to learn all about the human psyche, yet was unable to get past my own childhood trauma to let anyone properly into my life.

  At least I acknowledged it. I locked my office door and put my keys into my purse with a sigh. Perhaps it was time to face my demons soon, so I could start looking for a good man without scaring him off like I had my last semi-serious boyfriend. If nothing else, then because it might stop my neglected ovaries from dancing on the tables just because a man with muscles and a wicked smile groped me.

  It was dark when I stepped out of the run-down building and onto the street, as it always was this time of day in late October. Dim streetlights illuminated the pothole-rich road, but so many of them were busted that most of the light came from neon signs above closed shops, as well as the windows of the few restaurants and chippies lining the road. This part of East London wasn’t exactly the poshest of places, but it was the only place I had been able to afford to set up my small office. I was situated just above a Thai restaurant. The thing about getting a new identity is that it makes it awfully hard to go to a bank and ask for a business loan.

  “Hey, babe!”

  I glanced up at a wolf-whistle, and then quickly looked straight ahead again at the sight of a small group of young men loitering by the corner shop. I’d seen them hang around the area before, but had always managed to cross the road before they spotted me. Too late now. The only thing worse than crossing the road after they’d seen me would be to turn around and run. I gritted my teeth and prepared myself for some inevitable harassment.

  “What’s you so uptight about, babe?” one of them shouted as I walked past without looking to their side.

  “Bitch needs a good shag, mate,” another said, which was followed by rough laughter. “Hey, come here, princess, and I’ll show you what you need.”

  I ignored their shouts and rushed forward while clinging on to my purse, but suddenly, I found my way blocked.

  One of the men had stepped out in front of me and was leering at me. “Calm down, babe. We just want to talk.”

  I tried to sidestep, but he followed and put a hand on my shoulder. “Not so fast.”

  My heart leapt into my throat at the contact. Catcalling and street harassment was one thing—a typical nuisance of being a single female out on her own—but he was stopping me from leaving now, and I was having a hard time pushing back the first sliver of panic.

  “Let go of me!”

  “Aw, don’t be like that,” one of them purred behind me. “We just want to show you a good time.”

  “You should pay us for our kindness.” A sharp tug on my purse’s shoulder strap made me cling on harder to my bag.

  “Get off me!”

  “Oi! Leave the lady alone.” It wasn’t a full-on shout, but the new voice mixing in with the whoops and laughs of the group had a distinct no-nonsense tone. The guy grabbing on to my bag was shoved out of the way, and suddenly I was no longer alone in the circle of youths.

  “Hey, who the fuck—” The protesting voice behind me died as the newcomer next to me spun around.

  “Piss off. And if I see you harassing birds on the street again, you’re going to regret the day you slid out of your mother’s cunt, got it?”

  Someone muttered “Sorry,” and then, to my utter astonishment, they all took off down the street and around the corner.

  I blinked and readjusted my purse, taking just a moment to gather myself before I looked up at my savior. “Thank you, that—” The words died in my throat when he turned around and his gray eyes met mine.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” I stared up at Blaine for a couple of seconds—long enough for that trademark smirk to reappear—before I managed to pull myself together. “Why did they run from you like that?”

  He shrugged and put both hands in his jean pockets. “My family’s pretty well-known in some parts of the city. You headed for the station?”

  I nodded and gave him a long side-look as he fell into step alongside me. In any big city, only a few families could make low-level thugs scarper just on sight. I’d made it a point to stay far, far away from those sorts of people since I left Belfast years ago, but there was no way Blaine knew anything about where I came from. If he had, I’d likely be in the back of a van by now, not casually strolling down the street beside him.

  And, honestly, I was a bit curious as to what had made him come to my rescue.

  “I didn’t take you for the kind of guy who would lurk around, waiting for an opportunity to save damsels in distress.”

  Blaine laughed. “Haven’t diagnosed me with a hero complex, then, little dove?”

  “No—no, Mr. Steel, that I haven’t. You are about as far from a hero as it gets.”

  “How rude,” he hummed. “And after I swooped in and saved you from those big, bad bullies. Aren’t therapists supposed to build up their patients’ self-esteem?”

  “Not when that patient’s ego is already way overblown. But it’s not like you’ll be my patient going forward, so we’re good regardless.” Savior or not, being back in Blaine’s presence and feeling my body instinctively lean toward him reminded me of how much of a jerk he’d been during our session. I scowled at his handsome profile for good measure.

  “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about shagging me?” He didn’t even look at me, just grabbed my arm and stepped off the pavement so he could lead me across the road.

  I did my best to ignore the shiver of awareness his touch drove through my skin, even through my wooly coat. Damn him and whatever all-male pheromones he seemingly bathed in before going out! And damn my traitorous ovaries.

  “No offense, but I would rather slit my wrists.” I yanked my elbow out of his grasp the moment we were on the pavement again. “Does this usually work for you? Do women really drop their knickers when you make your interest in their fun bits known?”

  “Generally, they do, yes. In fa
ct, your continued refusal might end up doing permanent damage to my fragile self-image. Isn’t it in your ethical code that you must do what you can to help those who come to you seeking help? You really want to risk your professional reputation over the welfare of a patient?”

  I really should have learned my lesson from our encounter in my office, but every word out of his mouth grated against my nerves—partly because of my frustration at my body’s reactions, and partly because he served them with the most obscene smirk I’d ever seen. So instead of biting my tongue, I dug my heels in and rounded on him.

  “I realize that your crippling self-hatred is so tied to your masculinity that you constantly try to undermine strong women with crude attempts at sexual dominance, but maybe you should try to see us as more than something to bury your cock in, hmm? Whatever it is you’re so desperately trying to hide from yourself, it isn’t going to go away by sexually harassing anyone who thinks to challenge you.”

  Blaine’s deviant lips twitched, most likely at making me lose my temper—again. “Ah, but I have nothing against strong women, Miss Holler. I’ll even let you be on top.”

  I took a deep—deep—breath and counted to ten. “Sometimes, Blaine, we don’t get what we want. It’s part of our emotional development. Clearly, you’ve missed out, so see this as an opportunity to better yourself. If I had gotten the pony I desperately wanted for my sixth birthday, I would probably have ended up a horrible human being who thought she could get anything and anyone she pointed at, as well.” Yeah, I was subtle. “But I didn’t, and look at me now, all capable of acting like a normal person.”

  My righteous fury had done nothing to dim the devilish gleam in Blaine’s eyes. “You say I’m the one who’s scared, but you should see yourself—you look positively terrified that a night in the sack with me will make that prim and proper façade of yours come tumbling down.”

  Well, ouch. That hit a tad too close to home. I took a step back and shook my head, disengaging as I should have done from the start. “I truly hope you learn to drop the bad boy act one day so you can get rid of your demons. Goodbye, Blaine.”