Sweetest Sin: Bad Boy Bundle

by Delilah Wilde

  “Wrong. What you said was wrong. I survived a shooting. I called my boyfriend, who didn’t answer his phone. I called you, my self-proclaimed best friend. And the only words out of your mouth were ‘did you get the story’. And then, of course, John moaning in the background.”

  “You’re right. It was wrong. I should have asked you if you were okay. Or—.” She cuts herself off with a sigh. “I really am so sorry.”

  I shake my head. “This was a mistake. You have the flash drive now. All I really want right now is for you to erase everything bad you said about me. If I go to find another job, I don’t want to hear how they’re worrying about whether or not I will steal company property.”

  “It’s not that easy, Kirsten.”

  “Make it that easy. It was that easy to spread the rumor. To make me a national laughing stock. To ensure that no one could trust me to work for them. It better damn well be that easy to fix it.”

  “Okay. Kirsten, I can do that. In fact, I’ll go one better. Okay? You come back to work for the paper, I’ll give you that promotion you wanted to investigative reporter. You’ll be in a whole new department. Everyone will forget all about that flash drive thing.”

  “No,” I say as I shake my head. “No. And not just because of you and not just because of John. I just. That day was too much. I don’t ever want to see anything that makes me feel the way that day made me feel ever again.”

  “Wait, so you’re going to quit. Just quit journalism?”

  I nod my head and stand up. “Yea. When I quit, it was for good.”

  “Kirsten—.”

  “No. I can’t even say that I’m done being your friend, Felicia. Because you were never really my friend to begin with. But I am done being your doormat. See ya, Felicia.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  By the time someone else knocks on my door, I’m a complete mess. Questioning every decision. I fling the door open, forgetting to look through the peephole first.

  “Oh my God. Jackson? What the fuck are you doing here?”

  I can’t believe he’s standing at my front door. My heart flutters and my stomach lurches. I’m not entirely sure whether I’m going to kick him in the balls or throw my tongue down his throat until my mouth opens.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Huh, guess I compromised. Didn’t see that coming.

  “I, uh. I probably shouldn’t be here. But.”

  “But what? But you paid someone to spy again? Broke into the hotel’s database to find my billing address?”

  “No.” His eyelids fluttered in a confused dance. Completely thrown off by my questions. “I just thought about your addiction to coffee. So I stopped at the closest coffee shop to the newspaper I could find and asked them if they knew you and where I could find you.”

  “Oh, you mean you took the poor man’s route to finding something you wanted?”

  No sooner did the words leave my mouth, and my heart sank. My stomach clenched and my throat clumped into throbbing guilt. Why would I say something like that?

  Am I purposely trying to hurt his feelings? I think I might be.

  He nods his head and stares at his feet. That’s when I notice the cups of coffee sitting snug in the cardboard drink tray. He was trying to apologize. A real apology. And I’m a horrible person spitting venom in his face.

  “I’m sorry,” I mutter.

  “No I deserve that. I probably deserve worse. It must have been awful waking up alone and I disappeared like that.”

  “What the fuck happened? Where did you go?”

  “I’m sorry. I just. My phone rang. Someone was trying to buy out all the shares of my business.”

  “What does that mean? Buy out all the shares?”

  “It’s stocks. Someone was trying to buy enough stocks so they could take ownership.”

  “Take ownership? You mean buy you out?”

  “Yea, kind of. Instead of making me an offer and trying to buy my company from me, he was trying to do it like a sneak.”

  “Oh. Is that what they call a hostile takeover in the movies?”

  “Exactly. Anyway, I had to get on the phone and I needed to get one the computer. So I went to one of the conference rooms. I thought I would make it back in time to explain everything to you before you woke up. But by the time I got there you were already gone. And the people at the front desk had no clue. Finally the shuttle driver said he brought you to the airport. So I went there. But when I checked the flights there were two leaving for California. And I went to the wrong gate.”

  “You looked for me?”

  “I did.”

  I reach my arms out to wrap around his shoulders. Happy to see him standing in front of me after all. But before I can say another word, laughter wells up and bursts out.

  Jackson furrows his brows in confusion. “What’s so funny?”

  “This. All of this. This is like, the completely ridiculous predictable ending of a romantic comedy movie.”

  He blinks again. All emotion drains from his face, leaving behind just blank confusion.

  “You know, the movie where there’s this big misunderstanding, but at the last minute the guy makes this big romantic gesture and wins the heart of the girl.”

  Jackson chuckles and shakes his head. “No idea which movie you’re talking about.”

  “All of them.”

  “All the movies?”

  “Well, all the romantic comedies.”

  “Okay,” he says with a nod. “So…should I have hired a marching band and sent a hundred bouquets ahead of me? Or….”

  I laugh again and grab the neckline of his shirt to pull him into the apartment. It’s not as easy as it looks for a five foot nothing woman to pull a six foot something man by the neckline. And because it’s not as easy as it looks, I end up pulling myself straight into his arms.

  Still laughing, I gaze up at him as he caresses my cheek. He leans down and presses his lips against mine as he ushers me back into the apartment and closes the door behind him.

  <<<< THE END >>>>

  Table of Contents

  Off Limits

  Fling

  Improper

  Old School

  Dane

  Improper

  CHAPTER ONE

  "What a fucking asshole!" I yelled into the windshield as I slammed on the brake. I hated people like this. The guy sat at that intersection as I came up the hill, yet still decided to pull right out in front of me. To make matters worse, he slammed on his brakes.

  Over and over again. Was he brake testing me?

  "Dick!" I swore again. Keeping my eye on his flashing brake lights, I reached over into the other seat to grab my cellphone. Which was apparently hiding from me.

  I glanced down at the seat, grabbed the phone, and looked up again. Just in time to see his brake lights flash again.

  Just in time to see them. Not in time to stop.

  I slammed on my brakes with both feet. Yanking on the steering wheel and screaming. My tires shrieked against the asphalt as they carried the front end of my car and skidded into him.

  "Oh, damn it," I whispered after the force of the impact subsided. I checked myself in the mirror real quick and felt along my arms and legs. I was okay. Seconds later, my mind changed. My heart raced and my stomach clenched.

  The door to the car in front of me opened. Lightning flashed across the sky and reflected the make and model. BMW. A fucking Beamer? Of course a fucking Beamer. Because that was the way my luck worked. It couldn't be some sweet little old lady I hit. No. It had to be the king of all assholes climbing out of his beamer.

  Not that I would have wanted to hit some sweet little old lady.

  I took in a deep breath. Thinking he was coming back to grab my insurance information, I reached over to my glove compartment.

  "Hey!" he yelled through my closed window.

  "Oh shit," I thought as I fumbled through the glove compartment. I had to lean over further. The hem of my
skirt tickled my thighs as it crept up higher. Of all the times for this to have happened, it had to be right after getting out of work. Going to work in that sports bar dressed as a cheerleader every day was dreadful enough. But it paid the bills while I tried to finish school. Getting caught in the uniform outside of work was humiliating. "Well, maybe he'll get a good show and he'll leave me alone." I tried to laugh.

  Mr. Beamer didn't seem to understand what I was doing. "Hey!" he yelled again. His fist hitting my window made me jump.

  Finally. Found it.

  I sat up, insurance information in hand. I tried to adjust my skirt as I reached for the window handle. Another fist hit the window and I changed my mind quickly.

  I froze. If I gave this asshole my insurance information, he could find out where I lived. Did I really want him to know that?

  Bang!

  "I said get out of your fucking car!" His yells grew louder.

  Cellphone. I'll just call the police. Where the hell did my cellphone fall? I started feeling around the seats and the floor. Nothing.

  Bang! Bang, bang!

  My heart jumped into my throat. "I think you should just get back in your car. We can just wait for the police to get here." I hoped he didn't hear the desperate fear in my voice.

  "Oh is that what you think?" he hit my window a few more times.

  Oh God? Can he break through the window?

  I looked up at him. The rain made everything slick and shiny. His dark hair plastered against his face.

  His eyes left mine and darted downward.

  The car door.

  Fuck.

  I slapped the lock as his arm jerked at the handle.

  The door opened and his other arm reached around the door frame.

  I screamed. I think. I couldn't tell. My heartbeat took over my senses. Thumping away in my ear as I scrambled for the door handle and tried to pull it shut again.

  Yes, I screamed. I must have because I ran out of breath. My throat ached and scratched. Thunder rolled through the sky, making it hard for me to understand his demands.

  He grabbed my arm and pulled. I managed to catch the door with my foot and kicked. Throwing the metal door with a thwack straight into his shoulder. He stumbled back and shook his head.

  The door! I chastised myself for not closing it sooner. Taking advantage of his disorientation, I reached out and grabbed the door.

  He ran at me. Screaming. Growling.

  This was it. This was how I was going to die.

  I slammed the door and slapped the lock down as he landed on the window. His fists pounded against the glass again. He smirked and started to circle the car. Reaching for the back door. I leaned over the seat and slapped that lock down. Without bothering to look at his next move, I leaned over further and slapped down the locks of the other two doors, too.

  Back at my window. He slammed on the glass and yelled. I fumbled for the keys, intent on backing away from him and driving. Maybe he'll just run away? Who was I kidding? This asshole would probably jump in front of my car. Try to sue me later for hitting him. Or worse, jump in his car and run me off the road.

  Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as the key turned in the ignition.

  "Where the fuck do you think you're going? Huh? Get out--."

  ***

  Enough was enough.

  I wasn't sure what the hell was going on. But I definitely did not like what I saw. Two cars stopped in the middle of the road was usually a bad sign. But two cars pulled over at the side of this road in the middle of rain? Something was up. Neither of them noticed me as I parked my bike to see if I could help.

  That's when things got strange. The man, little smaller than I am, circling the car like a vulture. Punching the windows and screaming. The woman inside slamming the locks on her car doors down. Mascara running down her face in streaks.

  "Get out of the fucking car!" He yelled.

  "Hey buddy," I said as I walked up. "Why don't you just back off a little? You can't seriously expect a lady to get out of her car by herself when you're acting like a lunatic, right?" If he heard me, he ignored every word. Just kept screaming. The rain started falling harder.

  Fuck.

  Riding my bike this far was bad enough. Now I had to do it in the rain because some jerk wanted to flex his manhood by scaring some lady?

  "Where the fuck do you think you're going? Huh? Get out--."

  Enough was enough. I didn't give him the chance to finish his threat. I grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him behind me.

  "Hey stay out of this."

  I ignored him. It was too late for me to stay out of this. The woman's engine purred softly and I knew she would be leaving. I glared at the man in front of me. Ducking as he swung his fist at my face. I ran in low, tackling him at the rib cage and forcing him back away from the cars. I grabbed the back of his head and slammed it down into my knee. He crumbled to all fours, spitting blood. Another quick kick to his kidneys and he was done. Rolling down the short drop into the trench.

  Sirens. Police. Fuck.

  I glanced back over at the car. Lightning flashes reflected off her windows. Her cellphone screen trembled. She called the police. I glared back down at the trench, judging to make sure whether or not he would be back up.

  No movement.

  I spun back around and climbed up onto my bike. No way I was going to wait for those sirens to get closer. Not if I didn't have to. They'd be here before he could climb back out of there, and she'd be fine. I had to go.

  Grams was waiting. And she was the one person in the world I didn't want to make wait.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I couldn't believe he left. Just left. I didn't even know his name. I didn't know if I should be angry or grateful for the way he handled that asshole. But still. My mind raced with all the force of a thousand paranoid freaks. What if the asshole came back? What if he had a gun? Why didn't that guy stop to give me his phone number?

  That last one confused me. I had always been attracted to the nerds. The underdogs. The guys who would never get into a fight with a stranger on the side of the road. And yet here was this man...this Adonis of a man in leather. He came to my rescue and I was angry at the thought I would never see him again.

  I wondered what would happen if I peeled that leather jacket right off his broad shoulders. Feeling his large, warm hands wrap around my waist and pull me into him.

  Tapping on my window pulled my out of my fantasy.

  Damn it.

  I glanced over. The police had arrived. Tears immediately followed. It was as if the officers' arrival gave my emotions permission to explode out of control. Now I couldn't stop.

  "Ma'am. I need you to step out of the car, please."

  I complied and continued crying. The rain plastered my hair down to my face and neck. The three police officers spit out question after question. But I couldn't seem to get my answers out straight. I spoke in a tone so high pitched only dogs could hear me. And my words slurred into cries as I pointed at the two cars.

  "Okay, Ma'am. Calm down." One of the younger officers walked up and placed an arm on my shoulder. "Take a deep breath, okay?"

  I nodded and followed her instructions.

  "Now take another."

  Another deep breath.

  My trembling slowed and my words started to fall together the way in a more coherent way.

  "Okay, so you want to tell us what happened? On the phone you said you were being attacked. Did the attacker leave?"

  "No. Not really. Someone stopped. A man, on a motorcycle."

  "A man on a motorcycle stopped you?"

  "No. Stopped him. Okay, this man, the man driving that car, cut me off while I was driving down this road." I pointed as I tried to explain everything. "Then he started slamming on his brakes. Like he was trying to make me hit him."

  "Were you in a car accident, Ma'am?"

  "Kind of, I guess. I turned my head for a second to grab my phone and he slammed on his brakes. And I coul
dn't stop in time. Then he got out of his car and started yelling at me. He said he was going to kill me."

  "And where is he now?"

  I pointed to the ditch on the side of the road where I saw him fall.

  "You threw him into a ditch?"

  "No," I said and shook my head. "He. I'm sorry. He got out of his car and started yelling at me. And he was pounding on the windows and he kept telling me that if I didn't get out of the car that he was going to kill me. I managed to lock all the doors to my car before he could get them open. Then some guy pulled up on a motorcycle and told him to leave me alone. But he didn't listen and instead he attacked the guy from the motorcycle. They fought and then the guy fell down the side of the road and the guy from the motorcycle left. Then you got here."

  I stopped talking. Their eyes were wide by the end of my story. The two men sauntered over to the ditch and leaned over. They talked on their radios to some unseen listener and whispered to each other.

  The female officer stayed with me.

  Rain continued to pelt at me, soaking through this uniform and making me wish, yet again, that this had happened on any other night. Any other night when I wasn't working in this uniform.

  My nipples hardened in the cool air, scratching against the cotton of my uniform. I tried to fold my arms across my chest, hoping it might calm them down.

  "All right," one of the officers said as he walked back up to me. "We have to give you a ticket for the accident. By your own admission you looked away from the road and ran your car into him. Regardless if he was trying to provoke you or not, you hit him and for that we have to give you a ticket."

  I took another deep breath. More tears welled up behind my eyes. How could I be getting a ticket for this?

  "Now, you're going to get a citation in the mail." The female cop whispered. "That citation will list your hearing date. Go to the hearing and you can fight the ticket. Depending on the judge, you might be able to get the ticket dismissed because of the weather."