Trademarked: Bad Boys Need Love Too

by Misti Murphy

  “Parker Kent might be charming, he might even be nice, but please don’t fall for him, sis.”

  “I-I’m not.” I won’t. I totally will. Already have. Mostly.

  “Shit,” he says, shoulders slumping as he reads my thoughts on my face. “Then just don’t expect too much. Guys like him…” He shrugs. “Like me. We’re mighty good at what we do, but we’re not worth having your heart broken over.”

  “Aww. I don’t know about that.” It’s not often Cal lets me sneak a peek into his own manwhore lifestyle. “I think you might surprise yourself one day.”

  “Yeah?” He smirks. “That’ll be the same day hell freezes over.”

  “Maybe.” I pick up my bag and the cooler with the soup Mom decanted into a container for me. “I better go.”

  “Meeting Tim for your usual gossip session? Must be a lot to discuss these days.”

  “Something like that,” I agree.

  Cal walks me out, hands thrust in his pockets, jaw set like concrete. “Look, I don’t want to rain on your parade. I want you to be careful. That’s all. I don’t want to have to punch a guy like Parker Kent because he hurts my little sister.”

  “Is that what happened between you and Ty? You punched him for hurting me?”

  “He was a dick. Couldn’t be friends with a guy like that.”

  “You totally punched him.” I shouldn’t condone it. I don’t, but there’s some smug satisfaction in it anyway.

  Cal grins. “Clobbered him.”

  “Whatever happens with Parker...” I hug him when we move out onto the front porch. “Don’t do that.”

  “Can’t promise anything.” He rubs the center of his bottom lip with the side of his thumb. “But I’ll try for your sake.”

  “Good.” I shift my bag to my shoulder and take the steps, the cooler bumping against my leg. “I’ll see you next week.”

  On the train, I toss my bag and the cooler onto an empty seat and send Tim a text to tell him I’m on my way. Then I Google Anabelle Peters. She’s girl next door meets sex goddess pretty. There are stacks of pictures of her and Parker together, but not like together. At least not obviously. They look more like friends, colleagues. The article titles, the articles the gossip mags have written, though, are much sleazier:

  Parker & Anabelle’s Secret Relationship. It started on the set of their new movie!

  Anabelle’s baby bump. Are Parker Kent’s Bad Boy Days Over?

  Has Parker Kent Finally Been Tamed? We Have the Scoop.

  My pulse stutters and an icky sensation floods through me. Is any of this real? Probably not. The media isn’t exactly a trustworthy source. Parker had reminded me of that when I thought he was dating his sister. His sister. I shove my phone back in my bag. It’s nothing. They’re working together on promoting the movie. And that’s where his brand comes in. His reputation is important. But I don’t like it. I hate that I have doubts.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Parker

  “I wish I didn’t have to go to this meeting,” I tell Bree as she knots the tie under my jaw. She’s wearing her glasses, because she’s run out of contacts, and one of my suit shirts, chopsticks holding up her hair. It’s so fucking librarian sexy, and I think I have a new fantasy. “You, dressed like this, in nothing more than my shirt, it makes me want to bend you over the back of my couch and take you from behind. These glasses are seriously hot.”

  “Hold still,” she says as she smooths her hands over the front of my suit, but there’s a catch in her voice and her nipples turn to diamond points under the thin material.

  She’s totally ready for me. I could spin her around right now, and she’d be as wet and eager as she always is. Four weeks of near constant fucking hasn’t put a damper on her need. Or mine. Every time between us gets better and better. I could spend my whole life fucking her and never get tired or bored. I could spend my whole life with her and be happy.

  Do I tell her that? Is that something she would want to know? After our conversation about being exclusive with each other we haven’t talked any more about what that means in the long term. It was all too new, too soon. We’re happy coasting along in our bubble, away from the outside world.

  “Hang on,” she says before running into the kitchen. She comes back with her phone and starts snapping photos.

  “What are you doing?” I raise an eyebrow in amusement.

  “You have no idea how hot you look in a tux, do you? I wanna climb you like a monkey right now.”

  “Well, come here and climb me, babe.” I hold my hands out in front of me, ready to grab her ass and hike her into my arms.

  “I don’t think you understand.” She stays where she is, her cheeks glowing. “I’m so wet that if I climbed you I would leave marks all over your suit.”

  “That’s what dry cleaning is for,” I tell her.

  “It would make you late.” She takes a step toward me. “You’ll have to change, and your agent’s waiting.”

  “He can wait. I can’t.”

  With a groan she tosses her phone at the couch and rushes me. Her legs wrap around my waist as I lift her up, and her tongue fucks into my mouth with so much desire. Her thighs are coated with the shimmer of her arousal. I can feel the heat and wetness through my slacks. “Damn, babe. You’re on fire.”

  “Fuck me, Parker,” she mumbles into my mouth, grinding against my hardness. “Take me like you told me you would.”

  “Damn.” Girl knows exactly how to get a rise out of me. I cover the distance to the couch in two strides and let her slide down my body. Turning her around, I kiss the side of her neck and bite her shoulder. “You are so fucking sexy.”

  I skate my hand down the front of her shirt and dip between her thighs. She drenches my fingers with her wetness, and her knees buckle as I swirl the tip of a digit over her clit before stroking deep inside her. She mewls for me, and that sound makes my cock pulse. “The noises you make when I’m touching you like this drive me crazy, do you know that?”

  “Good crazy or bad crazy?” she asks breathlessly.

  “Both.” I tip her forward and she throws out her arms to catch herself on the back of the couch, presenting her heart shaped ass to me. “Feels fucking good to know that your pleasure is only for me, but it makes me want to do bad, bad things.” I grip her neck and nibble on the shell of her ear. Her scent spikes my need, makes my heart happy. “Very bad things.”

  She whimpers and squirms underneath me, her ass pressing to my crotch. Fuck, I would have a heart attack if she ever let me in there. I smooth my hand down her spine and over the crack of her ass. I’m so fucking careful, so light with my touch as I skim the puckered ring of her asshole. Teasing, testing, wanting more than I have any right to ask for.

  “Oh fuck.” She whimpers. “Do that again.”

  “Do it again?”

  “Uh-hu-mmmm, oh my... yes,” she says as I apply a little more pressure to her tight little asshole. I love her nonsensical sex vocabulary, knowing that she’s so turned on her brain can’t focus on anything but how much she wants me. “Fill me, Parker. I need your cock inside me. I need to feel you moving deep inside me.”

  “You want the super cock?”

  “I need it.”

  “Okay, babe. He’s all yours.” Undoing the fly of my suit, I grip my cock and run my hand up and down the length before pressing the crown to her wet cunt. Her pussy sucks me in and she’s even tighter in this position, her legs together. Watching her arousal coat my length as I thrust in and out of her is one of my favorite pastimes, and this angle is amazing.

  Gripping her hip, I thrust into her in slow, deep strokes. Her channel grazes my cock with every slide, creating blooms of pleasure that build on one another. I’m going to lose my mind along with my control. I can feel the pressure in my spine. “Rub your clit for me. Help me make you come.”

  “Oh God.” Eyes glazed, she rests her cheek on the couch and reaches between her legs to pleasure herself. She’s everything I could ever
want. I reach between us too, gather up some of her arousal and massage it into her asshole so that I can ease the tip of my pinkie inside her.

  Her legs start to shake, and she cries out, her orgasm both ferocious and ear piercingly loud. It snaps my brain, makes me feel powerful and lose control at the same time. I buck into her wildly, her inner walls sucking at my cock, begging for my cum. Curving around her I take her mouth with my own, while hot streams of cum jerk from my cock.

  I kiss her still as we bask in post-coital bliss. This woman. I need her as much as I need to breath. Her gorgeous body, her sweet heart, and her sharp mind. The very essence of her makes my heart beat her name. She’s the only one for me.

  “Parker.” She pants. “You’re going to be late.”

  “I’m really regretting agreeing to this meeting with Brad.” I’d rather pick Bree up and carry her into the bedroom. Start all over again. Slowly. Make love to her until she loses her mind.

  “It’s important though, isn’t it? With the movie promos about to start?”

  “Yeah.” I need to tell him about Bree too. We’ve managed to keep our relationship quiet and away from gossip, but that can’t last much longer. When it comes out, I want to be in control of the narrative, and that’s where I need Brad’s help. I pull out unhurriedly and she gives a seductive little moan. The sooner I go, the sooner I come back to her. I turn her around and nibble her lip. “I won’t be long. Make yourself at home.”

  She smiles, her green eyes sparkling. “Change first.”

  I glance down at my rumpled suit as I walk to the bedroom. The evidence of our encounter is still on my pants. “Yeah, I’m definitely going to have to send this to the cleaners.”

  ***

  As I open the door to my apartment, Bree’s giggle catches my ear. It’s like sunlight breaking through the cloud I’ve been under since my meeting with Brad. I’d told him about her; that she’s my girlfriend and we should discuss how to make it publicly known. I’m not letting TMZ or one of those other cheesy gossip sites handle the publicity when it comes to Bree. I can’t have them spinning it into another sleazy story that makes what we have seem less than it is.

  Brad insisted the timing is terrible with the Sexiest Bad Boy of The Year award coming up, and we’re about to make our final marketing push for the movie. Announcing my relationship with Bree right now could throw a wrench in the plan. “Women swoon because you’re the cocky, available bad boy. Sure, they love a good redemption love story, but that’s why it works so well. Because they get to fantasize they can be the one to change you. The whole premise of the movie, the marketing strategies are all geared to that fantasy. You’ve got the talent. You’ve got the face. You can go far as long as you don’t sabotage your movie career before it starts. Hold off a little while longer. Get this one movie out. Show people you’re sensational on the big screen. Then we can look at how we’ll announce you’re off the market.”

  Maybe he’s right. It took me long enough to advance my career this far. But it doesn’t feel good. It’s only a few more weeks. A month until the movie premiere. And I haven’t talked to Bree about it anyway.

  “Seriously though, I have to ask, pink hair? Do you have to dye it often to keep it that color?”

  “It’s natural. Do you want creamer?” Bree’s voice floats from the kitchen.

  “Yeah, and don’t forget the sugar. I like my coffee like I like my women.” That’s Dutch, flirting with my girlfriend in my own apartment.

  “Is that right?” Bree asks.

  “Hot and sweet.” Dutch’s arrogant grin carries in his voice.

  “You’re terrible.” She laughs.

  I shove the door closed and the bang echoes through the apartment. I knew it was only a matter of time before Dutch got all flirty, because that’s what he does. It’s the language that’s hardwired into him. It doesn’t mean he’s trying it on with my girl. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s harmless. But does Bree have to sound like she’s enjoying it so much?

  Christ, if he has his hands on her… If she’s touching him…

  Like Cassie did that night he was blackout drunk. Hoping he’d take her to bed, knock her up, marry her. Because he’d already made it big as a movie star. Jaw clenched, I walk into the kitchen.

  Dutch is reaching for the mug Bree is offering him.

  She sees me and breaks into a grin. Dutch practically has to catch the mug as she throws herself into my arms. Dressed, unlike I’d hoped to find her, but with Dutch here I’m glad for it. Her plump lips graze mine. “How was the meeting?”

  “Yeah, how was the meeting with dear old Brad?” Dutch slurps his coffee. His agent too, which is how I ended up with Brad in the first place.

  I circle both arms around Bree’s waist and keep her close as I growl over her shoulder at him. “Get out.”

  “What?” Dutch stares at me like I’ve grown an extra head.

  “I-It’s okay.” Bree stares at me too. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

  “Go home, Dutch,” I tell him. “And call next time before you rock up to my apartment. Or text at fucking least.”

  “What’s going on with you?” Bree asks, clasping the side of my face, concern etched in the lines around her mouth.

  “Are you fucking with me?” Dutch asks.

  “Nope. Door is over there.” I jerk my head in that direction. “Use it.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Dutch scowls as his coffee cup lands with a sharp thud on the counter. “I thought we were past that shit.” He puts his palms up. “I didn’t fuck you over then, and I’m not going to now.”

  “What are you talking about?” Bree tugs on my shoulder, trying to get me to focus on her.

  “Gold digging bitches,” Dutch mutters, stalking out of the kitchen. “Call me when you’re not in such a pissant mood.”

  The door slams closed a moment later, and the hammering in my chest eases.

  “What was all that about?” Bree escapes my tight grip and grabs my hand, drags me into the living room and pushes me onto the couch where she straddles my lap. Her palm covers my heart. “You’re so worked up. Talk to me.”

  What do I tell her? That we have to keep our relationship a secret so that my brand stays intact? That I must be seen everywhere looking like I’m completely unattached. Worse, there are rumors floating around that I’m fucking my costar and I can’t set the facts straight because I have to protect the career I’ve worked so hard on, when all I want to do is show my relationship with Bree off to the whole world. When I’d suggested we stay in after the cookie incident it had been in jest, but now those words are haunting me. Bree’s going to think that I wanted to keep our relationship a secret. That I planned it this way. And I couldn’t blame her if she did. Not when I tell her that’s how it has to be for the immediate future.

  And now I’m blowing up at Dutch for no good reason whatsoever. Except there is a reason. One that hit me with an absolute certainty when I imagined Bree moving on from me. I nuzzle the top of her head and breathe in her sweet and tart scent as the tension inside me deflates. Fuck. I’m going to have to apologize to Dutch. Probably grovel. There’ll definitely be an expensive bottle of spirits involved.

  “Parker?” She rubs small circles on my chest. Soothing me.

  “Sorry.” I try to exhale all the tension out. “I shouldn’t have acted like an ass.”

  “Why did you? Did you think that Dutch, that we....” she trails into silence, putting together an idea that makes me feel ten times worse for losing my cool. Especially when hurt is clear in her voice and in the lines around her beautiful green eyes. It’ll hurt her worse if I tell her I have to pretend I’m not with her for the foreseeable future.

  “No.” I gaze into her luminescent green eyes. I want her to know that I mean what I say. “No. Not you.” I shake my head. “And not Dutch either. It’s been a rough afternoon and when I got home he was flirting with you.” I skate my hands up her side, so gently my fingers shake, resting my thumbs on
her ribs beneath her breasts. “He’s always a flirt. With everyone. Even with Jeanie. And now you. It got to me.”

  “You were jealous?”

  “Something like that,” I admit. “Maybe crazy insecure would be more apt. Because the last time I cared about someone they didn’t care about me.” The thought tumbles off my tongue so easily. It no longer hurts or makes me angry. Because it no longer matters.

  My reaction to Dutch wasn’t about whether I can trust Bree. And Dutch certainly didn’t deserve it. I take a deep breath, let it out through my lips. “Cassie and I were together a while, long enough that I thought it was real, was considering proposing to her. But it wasn’t. There were signs that she wasn’t really with me for me. More for what she hoped she could get from me.” I grimace. “Actually that’s not even right. I was a stepping-stone. A rung on the ladder she was climbing. I don’t know whether she thought she could use me to get to Dutch since he’d already made it in his career, but she definitely saw him as the next step up. She came onto him hard one night. He was blind drunk, and I caught her trying to entice him into going to bed with her.”

  “Dutch wouldn’t,” Bree says matter-of-fact. “I haven’t known him long, but I can tell that your friendship means the world to him.”

  “No, he wouldn’t.” I shake my head at my stupid behavior. “And you’re right. Our friendship is solid. At least, it is when I’m not acting like an ass. He might have been struggling to walk upright, but he still told her that she would have to find someone else to fuck me over with. He would have told me what happened if I hadn’t found them like that. As it was, he didn’t have to.”

  Telling her about this moment in my life doesn’t have the same effect on me as just thinking about it used to. It’s not important, it doesn’t mean anything for me and Bree. I’m all in with the woman on my lap. I have to believe she is too. “She and I didn’t last long after that. She met some British director at an industry party I took her to. Moved to London and married him.”