Claimed by the Bad Boy

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Claimed by the Bad Boy Page 6

by London Saint James


  “What kind of an emergency?”

  “It seems an ex of one of our residents showed up, and the police have been called since there is a restraining order against him. Denise was supposed to be on call this weekend, but she’s not answering the phone. So, I have to go.” Molly paused and glanced up at him. “You’ll have to paint without me.”

  “I’m sure you’re so sad about that,” he teased.

  She was. She loved spending time with him. She loved him.

  “Yeah,” she said, giving Ryker a forced smile. “I’m heartbroken over missing out on paint fest.”

  He laughed and tapped the tip of her nose. “Go on. I’ll talk to you later. And thanks for coming over to help.”

  Molly nodded. “Sure.”

  She headed for the foyer, Ryker walking her to the door.

  “Be careful, Molls.”

  His words caused her belly to flutter, only to experience her stomach lurching when she opened the front door and saw some woman in spiked heels and a short, black skirt with bobbing black curls walking up the driveway—a too-big smile plastered across her angular face.

  She turned to eye Ryker. “Friend of yours?”

  “Not exactly.”

  She hated when he hedged.

  “Hey, there,” curly top said in a gooey-sweet coo. “I know when we talked in class the other day, you said no housewarming presents….” Molly narrowed her eyes. So, that’s how he knew her. From the university where he was finishing up his master’s degree in computer science. “But I just couldn’t resist.” She held up a basket. “Well, okay. This might be more of a present for me.” The bitch winked.

  Molly stepped outside, and the two women eyed each other, assessing. Then, Molly saw what was in the basket. Assorted massage oils. A tube of lube. A pair of handcuffs. Some sort of silver-looking clamps. One monster vibrator. And glow-in-the-dark condoms.

  Stewing, she lifted her gaze and fixed her expression into something she hoped resembled neutrality. The brunette gave her a smug grin before honing in on Ryker.

  “I’m sorry,” the woman said to him, dismissing her. “I can go and let you finish up with her first.”

  Molly turned to glower at Ryker who wasn’t saying a thing. He didn’t look pissed to see the woman bearing her basket of kinky crap. In fact, he didn’t seem happy, surprised, amused, or irritated. He just stood there, wearing his cool, impassive mask.

  “No,” Molly said, returning her attention to his visitor. “You might as well stay. I’m all done here.”

  ***

  Present.

  Molly was walking through one of the clothing aisles at Nordstrom’s when the muted sound of her ringtone caught her attention, so she slowed and pulled her cell phone out of her purse.

  “Hello?”

  “Molly-mine.”

  “Hi, Jack.”

  “Hi,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

  Her eyebrow arched. She hadn’t thought of Jack once, too busy in her thoughts of another man, and her brand of therapy, to forget about said man.

  “You have?”

  “Of course.” There was the distinct puff, pause, exhale on the other end of the phone. Jack was a smoker, although he hid his habit well. He never smelled or tasted like an ashtray. “Listen,” he said. “Let’s go out tonight and celebrate the Fourth.”

  “Okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sure. Where do you want to go?”

  “I’m going to surprise you.”

  She chuckled. “All right.”

  “Pick you up around seven?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Excellent,” he said, his voice cheery. “I’m counting down the hours until seven.”

  She smiled. Jack always appeared to be happy to see her as often as possible, unlike…. No. No thoughts of the man better left nameless.

  “Me, too,” she said. “See you this evening, Jack.”

  “Bye, Molls.”

  She went stiff; however, she didn’t correct him. She didn’t have the time. He’d disconnected their call.

  Molly was still holding her phone in her hand when the dweedle-deet made her jump as though a bee stung her ass.

  Glancing down, she groaned.

  Molls. Deck said his fiancée sent you an invitation to the party we’re having for the Fourth at our place tonight. Are you coming?

  —Ryke

  What should she do? Don’t text him back. What would any other sane woman do? They’d let him hang. After all, he’d left her hanging many times before. Heck, she’d been hanging for the last year. Nonetheless, Molly was already typing her reply even while the thought of ignoring him ping-ponged around inside her head.

  I have other plans.

  After she hit send, she made a quick decision. If he texted back, she wouldn’t answer.

  You’ll answer.

  She took hold of her weaker self and turned off her phone. Now, she was positive she wouldn’t answer.

  Chapter Nine

  Present.

  Laughter and chatter mixed into the sounds of music, a splash war taking place in the pool, and the intermittent pop, pop, crack of distant fireworks going off around the neighborhood far too early. Heaving a sigh, Ryker flopped an oversized beach towel over his bare shoulder.

  Once, he would have been the life of the party with his jokes, being the good host. In general, he’d mingle until he found someone of the female persuasion to distract him and his dick for a while. But, tonight, he just wasn’t in the party mode. Hell, he didn’t even know why he was in his swimming trunks since he didn’t want to join in the foolishness going on in the pool.

  “Hey, boss,” Marty Sheenan, one of his programmers greeted, patting his stomach. “Those were some fantastic ribs.”

  “Yeah. Declan is good with that grill of his.”

  “He sure the hell is.” A second passed, Marty rocking back on his heels. “Listen. I’m glad you’re home.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Will we see you in the offices on Tuesday?”

  “I suppose so, Marty.”

  “The idea of pulling nine to fives isn’t your thing, is it?”

  “Naw, but I’ll survive.”

  Marty chortled. “Good to hear.” There was an awkward silence for a moment. Ryker had never been the type of boss who was chatty. “Well, I see my wife over there by the pool, holding a beer with my name on it.” He grinned. “I’ll talk with you later.”

  “Sure. Go enjoy.”

  Ryker rubbed his fingers across his stubbled jaw. He should grab a beer. Mingle. Do something other than stand there, except he wasn’t into doing anything, not even the tanned blonde in the white string bikini who was sashaying toward him, large breasts a-bouncing.

  “Great party,” she said in her singsong voice. “You and your brother always throw the best bashes on the block.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

  She smiled up at him, oozing seduction. “Oh, I am. But….” Bunny, that was her ridiculous name, traced the tip of a manicured nail along his forearm. “I could always have a better one.” Her tongue darted over her lips. “What do you say?” She cocked a hip—breasts brushing against him. “Want to give this a go, Ryker?”

  Habit, more than any other reason, had him giving his neighbor the once over, looking at what she offered. Smooth, glistening skin. Toned, tight stomach. Full lips. High cheekbones. Cat-shaped eyes glittering in the color of honey. While she was beautiful—and wanted to call him cowboy, saddle up, and ride him for the night—his dick didn’t bother a response.

  Ryker found himself saying, “If you’ll excuse me….” as he plucked her hand from his arm and turned away.

  “Hey,” she said, sounding miffed. “Where you going?”

  Walking toward the house he gave her his response. “Out.”

  “You just passed up the best lay of your life.”

  He chuckled a humorless sound under his breath, walked thro
ugh the open patio doors, went to his bedroom, and threw the towel on the foot of his bed. Then Ryker tugged on a T-shirt, grabbed his wallet and his car keys from the nightstand, and headed for the garage. He’d take a drive. Clear his head. And, with any luck, he’d be wearing a better mood when he came back home instead of the irritated one he was sporting.

  ***

  Listening to a song by Nine Inch Nails, Ryker sped down the highway in his sports car, windows open, feeling the warm, evening air whip inside and swirl across him, disrupting his shirt in rippled waves.

  As though waking from a music-induced trance, Ryker realized he’d exited the highway a while ago and was driving down Bannock Street. Slower than need be, he drove through the neighborhood, toward the blue Victorian near the corner, and told himself he’d just do a drive by.

  “Fuck me,” he grumbled.

  There she was. Molly Monroe. The innocent fresh-faced girl next door he’d never gotten out of his system. Only, she’d way passed the girl stage, and it had been years since she’d lived next door to him.

  Unable to look away and keep driving, which he knew he should, he parked across the street, one house down from hers, and took her in—a man starved. He hadn’t seen her since things went spiraling out of control last year and ended in the worst way.

  God. He scrubbed his palm down his face. She looked good. Too good in her flouncy little coral-colored sundress, the hem fluttering around her supple white thighs as she bounced down the steps of her porch with all of her silky strawberry blonde hair loose—the ends curling temptingly around her breasts. Perfect breasts he once touched. Licked. Nibbled. Sucked.

  His dick stirred now. Heck. Stirred was too tame a word. Mini-Me went spike hard.

  Adjusting his shaft, he kept his gaze on her. Is she smiling? Yes. Those plump, rosy-pink lips he’d long imagined slipping over the head of his cock—because he demanded of her to break her submissive position at his feet, and lift her chin up to take him into her mouth as he stroked her soft cheek—were without a doubt turned up in an alluring smile.

  His gaze shot to the tall male-model type who sauntered up the sidewalk going to meet her. The pretty boy wrapped his arm around Molly’s waist, leaned in, and whispered something into her ear then, together, they walked toward the black BMW parked in her driveway.

  ***

  Molly played with the radio in Jack’s car until she found a station she enjoyed listening to.

  “Yay,” she said, a grin stretching across her face. “I love this song.”

  He chuckled, pulling out of her drive.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I love to hear that little note of excitement in your voice when you talk about something you enjoy.”

  “Oh.” She paused, not sure what to say to that. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

  “I thought we’d go to the park, find us a nice spot to spread out the blanket, sit, have us a little romantic evening picnic for two, and watch the fireworks when it gets dark.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “I even bought hummus and those chips you love from the deli around the corner from my place.”

  “You do pay attention to all the little details, don’t you?”

  “All the details of you, you mean?”

  She nodded.

  “Of course.” Left hand on the steering wheel, Jack reached over with his right and squeezed Molly’s leg. “I’m into this little dress you’re wearing.” He inched the hem of said dress up, exposing more of her thigh. “Damn,” he said, his voice appreciative. “You are so sexy, Molly.”

  The thing about Jack, he was always complimentary. “Thank you.”

  Slow and sure, Jack slid his palm up her leg. “You’re welcome.”

  When his fingers brushed across the front of her silky panties, Molly sucked in a breath. He stroked once. Twice. “Spread your legs for me.” It was so wrong, although she imagined Ryker saying this to her, and the doing made her heart hammer in her throat.

  Molly slid her legs apart. A little. “Is this what you want?”

  “More,” he said. Molly gave another nudge of her knee, until it hit the passenger door.

  “There you go. That’s what I want.” With a steady glide, Jack began touching her in smooth, unhurried rubs. “Tug your dress up.” She glanced over at him. “I want to see you.” She did what he asked. “Beautiful.” The strokes between her legs transitioned from slow to fast and hard. She’d never done anything so irresponsible in a speeding car before. Unable to contain herself, she started arching in the seat and moaned. “Molly,” he said, his voice going low and his breathing sounding shallow. “Your panties are getting wet.”

  “Mm hm.” She bit at her bottom lip and reached over to touch him.

  He groaned when she squeezed his hard dick through his pants.

  “Hang on.” Before she had time to take a breath, they were pulling into a random parking garage where Jack parked far away from the entrance, moved his seat back, and shut off the purring engine of the car. “Glove box,” he said. “Open it.” She blinked at him, then turned her attention to the dash and opened the little door to see condom packages scattered on top of his registration and auto insurance papers. She picked up a little square. “Put it on me.”

  Was she truly going to do this in a parked car? In the next instant, Molly decided she sure the heck was, when she glanced over to see Jack unzipping his pants and freeing his erection.

  After tearing the package open, she went for it—Jack helping her roll the latex over his cock. When she was done, he lifted her body and placed her onto his lap. She gasped. The man was fast, strong, and what they were doing was risqué.

  He reached under her dress and pulled her panties aside. “Work yourself down on me,” he said. She maneuvered her knees to either side of his hips, spine bending into the steering wheel. His hands went to her waist, tugging Molly down on him. The blunt head of his dick pressed inside that first little bit, stretching her. She moaned. “Take it all.” She slid down his hard shaft. “Shit yeah!”

  “God, Jack.”

  They were looking into each other’s eyes, mouths open, gasping for air.

  “You’re so…. Christ, Molly. You’re so unbelievably hot.”

  When her legs started to shake, one of his hands went to her ass, grasping. The other cupped a breast over her sundress.

  “Yes,” she uttered in a breathy sound. He ground himself into her and rocked her forward. The action hit her clit, sending her to the edge.

  “I can feel you. You’re there, aren’t you?”

  “Mm.”

  “Come, beautiful.”

  “I am.” Molly’s climax ripped through her, one palm pressing up into the roof of his car, hips gyrating.

  She closed her eyes, picturing Ryker’s face. His big hands on her body. An instant later, the fantasy she shouldn’t be having, dissolved when Jack groaned.

  When their breaths somewhat calmed, she fell forward onto his chest.

  “Molly?”

  Jack tangled his fingers into her hair.

  “Hmm?”

  “I want to see your eyes.”

  His warm breath gusted across her chin when she pulled back to look at him. “You’re going to come for me again tonight,” he said. “Only, when you do, you’re going to be in my bed my naughty little sex kitten.”

  Being referred to as a sex kitten, took her aback, and for the hundredth time since receiving Ryker’s text, her memories stirred, bringing up the man she failed to forget.

  Chapter Ten

  Past.

  “Happy Halloween,” Molly greeted as she answered the door of her mother’s house, wearing a sexy kitten costume, and Ryker’s eyes widened.

  His gaze meandered from the pointed black-and-pink leopard-print ears atop her head, the way strands of her upswept hair had slipped free and fell around her face, dropped to the swell of her pale cleavage in a black leopard corset, and then he eyed the short leopard print skirt,
complete with black thigh-high gartered stockings with little pink bows around the top of them, and suede-like, black stilettos.

  She swished the skirt with her hands bringing his interest to her legs, and a peek at the soft skin above those stockings. “What do you think?”

  “Hell,” he muttered, glad he wore his shirt untucked under his coat. It would hide the erection he was now the owner of. “I think you should change.”

  He allowed his gaze to slip back up the way it had come, until he rested on her frowning face.

  “You hate my costume?”

  “No,” he said. “Quite the opposite.”

  She blinked, rapidly. “Then why did you say I should change?”

  “Because, I’ll need to beat the men off you tonight.”

  She giggled. “I doubt that.”

  He locked his gaze with hers. “I don’t.”

  She glanced down the length of him. “Why aren’t you wearing a costume?”

  The way she looked at him, always made him burn. “I am.”

  “No you’re not.”

  “Come on,” he said, holding the door open. “If you’re not going to change, then we might as well go.” He looked over his shoulder to see car after car lining the street. “As you can see, we already have people arriving.”

  Molly turned to grab her coat, slipped it on, then made her way outside. “Why did you have your Halloween party at your parents’ house this year?”

  Ryker closed her door. His gaze was riveted on her as she walked past, hopped down the stairs, and stopped on the sidewalk. Every single part of his body ached for her.

  “Not that I’m complaining,” she said. “It made it easy, since I promised Mom I’d come over and help give out candy this year. Now all I have to do is walk next door instead of drive across town.”

  He made his way to her and took hold of her hand. If she was insistent on wearing what she was, he was claiming her tonight.

  “Mom and Dad went on their Europe trip, and Leddy took vacation time, too.”

  “I always liked your housekeeper.”

  “Yeah. Leddy’s great.”

 

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