Dirty Rogue: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Amelia Wilde

  He scowled in return. “Yeah,” he said. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  My spirits are high when I unlock the door to my rented apartment and take a glance around. It’s spotlessly clean with modern furniture, chrome and white as far as the eye can see. This could be any wealthy man’s apartment. I’m sure the women I bring back here over the course of this vacation will think it suits me perfectly.

  I’m truly alone for the first time in years, and I flop down on the plush leather sofa, stretching my arms above my head, relishing it.

  For about a minute.

  Then it starts to make me feel a little on edge.

  I brush the thought away. I’ve served my mandatory year in the volunteer corps like everyone else in Saintland. I know how to be alone, for God’s sake.

  Anyway, I came here for two reasons. I’ve achieved one of them so far.

  To get started on the second, I pull my phone from my pocket and open the most popular hookup app in the world. I used the free Wi-Fi on the flight over to create a profile that wouldn’t give away any politically sensitive details, anything that might hint at my true identity. It went live while I was still over the Atlantic.

  I haven’t had the app open thirty seconds when it pings and my heart leaps with anticipation.

  It positively pounds when I click on the message button and see the profile picture of the woman who has summoned me for a date tonight.

  She’s a goddamn knockout. Auburn hair. Full lips. Fuck-me eyes.

  Hello, New York.

  Chapter 5

  Jessica

  I stand at the bar at the back of the Bystander and force myself not to sway from side to side as I wait.

  I got here too early.

  We planned our meet-up in a series of minimalist texts, like too many words would fuck things up. Who knows? Maybe they would.

  Name the place!

  It took only seconds for the ideal spot to appear in my mind. The Bystander is a place I used to frequent when I went to Columbia. It’s a little rougher than the places I went with Christian and Carolyn when they would visit, and it’s about a thousand rungs below the Purple Swan, but it’s comfortable and always busy on Friday night, which makes it perfect for my purposes.

  Our purposes.

  I’d written:

  The Bystander. Do you know it?

  I will soon ;)

  My heart beat faster at that little wink. Who knows why that simple little emoji made me react that way? It’s probably a standard symbol for every guy trawling the app.

  When’s good?

  I bit my lip. Play it cool, Reeves, play it cool.

  9:30?

  I’ll be there!

  Look for me

  I’m looking for him now.

  The bartender makes another sweep toward me. “Drink, miss?”

  It’s the second time he’s asked me. I turned him down when I got here fifteen minutes ago in case Mystery Man wanted to buy me my first drink, but now the nerves are getting to me.

  Nerves. Me!

  All based on a single photo of a guy on a dating app.

  I take in a deep breath though my nose and exhale out my mouth, tapping my fingers on the worn surface of the bar. “Sure. Yeah,” I say to the bartender, who has waited patiently for me to make up my damn mind. That probably has a lot to do with the fact that I look goddamn amazing tonight. As soon as Mystery Man’s final reply came in, agreeing to meet me at 9:30 at the Bystander, I’d tossed my phone onto the table by my purse and run to the shower, emerging ninety minutes later wearing my favorite dating outfit, my hair blown out straight and shining, and just enough makeup. “A 7 and 7. Go light on the Seagram’s, though.” What with the stress of the day and the fact I was too excited to eat a full dinner, I’ll need to be a little conservative if I want to have my wits about me when he finally arrives.

  The bartender slides the drink across the bar to me. I take a sip, the warmth of the liquid competing with the chill that had suddenly started blooming in my gut.

  What if he doesn’t show?

  This kind of shit is exactly why I stopped using this kind of app, adopted the rule, and left the random hookups in the past. I remember now. All those rude rejections that shouldn’t affect me but did—and do—anyway. Even after years of convincing myself to accept that I’ll never fully understand how the lives of my closest friends work, it hasn’t totally tempered the sting when someone stands me up.

  It’s what makes hanging out with Christian so convenient. His invites are a guarantee.

  I take another sip of my drink, a bigger one this time, to quell my fear, and then casually turn to glance toward the front of the bar.

  The entire world slams into slow motion.

  It sounds cliché as hell, like some bullshit out of the movies, but that’s exactly what happens when I see him, moving confidently through the crowd, the smile on his face self-assured and sexy. The plain t-shirt he wears is tight on his muscular form, but not too tight—this is a man who knows how to dress himself, and the cut of his jeans does him all kinds of favors.

  It’s him.

  Holy fuck, he’s hot. The picture didn’t do him justice. The picture didn’t tell me how the sharp line of his jaw would look in the multicolored lights bouncing around the bar, the darker shadows emphasizing the chiseled lines of his face. The picture didn’t tell me that he would move like a jaguar, power barely contained in the frame of his body, each movement somehow sensual and strong at the same time.

  He’s coming right toward me.

  I resist the urge to look behind me, because this man—sex on two legs, an angel ripped from the pages of GQ but without the high fashion—cannot possibly want to spend time with me. Next to him, I might as well be dressed in sweats, my hair tossed up into a messy bun, half-asleep.

  Heads turn toward him as he approaches, but he never stops.

  I can feel my pulse pounding loudly in my ears.

  Then he’s closing the final gap between us, and I suck in a breath.

  “Hey,” he says, looking down at me, his green eyes lit from within by excitement. “You’re Jessica0607?”

  “Yeah,” I say hoarsely, and at the sound of his voice—smooth, deep, fucking gorgeous—my panties are even damper than they were a moment ago when I first laid eyes on him. “It’s not the most creative name, but it works for the Internet.” I swallow hard. “You’re AlecToday?”

  He laughs, a beautiful sound, his eyes locked on mine. Women are still eyeing him from all around the bar, but he doesn’t turn his attention away from me.

  I’m not a flighty woman. Yeah, I might pick up and move more often than the average person, but I’m not the kind of girly-girl who has to fan herself whenever a hottie walks by.

  Or at least I wasn’t.

  “That’s me. But you can call me Alec.”

  “Jessica,” I answer.

  I can’t tear my eyes away from him. All of me feels ablaze, and he hasn’t even touched me yet. He just looks into my eyes, then runs his fingers through his hair. The next moment, his face breaks into a half-smile that sends pure lust rocketing down my spine, landing in the space between my legs.

  Whoa, Jess, I tell myself sternly. Don’t even think about breaking the rule for this guy. You don’t even know him!

  My irritating inner voice is drowned out by Alec’s deep, smooth voice.

  “Well, Jessica,” he says, and for the first time I register his British accent. “Can I start by buying you a drink?”

  The suggestion in his voice sweeps me away. This is where it starts…but not where it ends.

  Chapter 6

  Alec

  Even from across the bar, she’s incredible.

  The black skinny jeans hugging the curve of her ass, the kitten heels giving her just a little extra height, the lacy black halter top that gives me a goddamn amazing view of the curve of her shoulders and arc to her collarbone—the ensemble works for her like you wouldn’t believe.

 
; Her body is perfection, lithe with delicate curves, and her face knocks me out: big expressive blue eyes that track my every motion as I navigate the crowd, full lips that part slightly when she notices me watching her as closely as she’s watching me.

  But what I see is nothing compared to what I feel standing a foot and a half away from her, leaning in close to be heard over the din of the bar.

  Assured confidence radiates off of her, but there’s a hint of uncertainty there, too, that I find absolutely irresistible.

  The only thing that saves me from turning into a quivering mess of nerves in front of her is the years and years of practice I’ve had in the public eye. I silently thank my asshole father for insisting that we get lots of experience in front of crowds, because my heart is racing a million miles an hour just looking at her, but I don’t let my anxiety show on my face.

  “Hey,” I say, looking down into her wide eyes. Standing this close, I can see that they’re a startling shade of blue, a rich blue that reminds me of deep water. “You’re Jessica0607?” Her username on the dating app was startlingly innocuous for the most gorgeous woman on the planet.

  “Yeah,” she answers, an easy smile forming on her face. “It’s not the most creative name, but it works for the Internet.” She swallows and then bites at her lower lip before continuing, leaning toward me so that she can speak into my ear. “You’re AlecToday?”

  It’s not until it comes out of her mouth that I realize what a goddamn stupid username it is, but what else can I do but play it cool? I laugh like it doesn’t matter, because in the face of this incredible beauty, almost nothing else does.

  “That’s me. But you can call me Alec.”

  “Jessica.”

  Her eyes are locked on mine. There’s a slight hitch in her breath. Exhilaration zings through my entire body, from my spine to my fingertips, and I know instantly that there’s something different about her.

  Whether that’s good or bad remains to be seen.

  For now, I have to get to know her a little more.

  Maybe a lot more.

  “Well, Jessica,” I say, and her lips quirk in a smile like she’s hearing me speak for the first time. “Can I start by buying you a drink?”

  “Start?” she says, a sly grin lighting up her face. “You can start with that. But I hope our night ends with something a little more exciting.”

  My breath catches in my throat, and my cock jumps to attention, just from the way the word “exciting” rolls off her tongue.

  It only takes a single drink for both of us to settle in, but during that time, the sparks that flew between us when I was walking across the bar toward her have accelerated into an inferno. I’m happy to let it burn me alive.

  It starts when she lingers next to my ear and says the word “exciting” like she’s devouring a hard candy made from possibility and lust. Her hot breath on my neck has my cock twitching blatantly inside the cage of my jeans.

  Then, Jessica banishes any uncertainty she was feeling by taking control of the situation. That’s a new experience for me. I can’t say I hate it.

  When she leans away, she looks back up into my eyes and seems to make a decision. “Let’s keep it to first names, okay?”

  It’s not really a question. “Agreed.” Perfect, I think. She’ll never know my true identity, and I can move on in the morning. A little voice in the back of my mind disagrees with this pact, but I shove it aside. Now that Jessica is so close to me—and even hotter than her profile picture suggested, which is pretty fucking hot—I want her lips on mine.

  I want her body on mine.

  I want….

  We’re crammed close together by the bar crowd, and I feel the electricity crackling between us as she sips the cocktail I bought her—something sweet I didn’t catch the name of—and answers each of my questions with just enough information to leave me tantalized and wanting her even more.

  “Is this your favorite bar?” I ask, taking the opportunity to slip my arm around her waist. She doesn’t resist my advance and instead smiles up at me.

  “Now it is.”

  “What was it before?”

  “What’s it matter, Mystery Man?”

  “I want to know all about you.”

  “There are better ways to do that.”

  “Like what?”

  She turns in my arm and steps an inch closer.

  “There are lots of ways to get to know a person. It doesn’t even have to be in a bar.”

  “No? Where’s your favorite place to get to know someone?” Her smile is the embodiment of sheer seduction, even though she’s making sure we’ll never truly get to know each other by limiting her answers to my questions.

  “My bedroom,” she says, her voice low and husky.

  “And what do you do there to get to know someone new?” Holy Jesus, do I ever want this woman, this vixen, this queen.

  “Compare Netflix queues.”

  We both burst out laughing. She is so stunning that when she stops laughing, I lean down, cup her face in my hands, and cover her mouth with mine, tasting the sweetness of her drink on her lips and her raging desire on her tongue.

  Our kiss is electric. She moans into my mouth, pressing her body against mine, and I taste her one more time before breaking away. Her hand grips my wrist tightly, as if I might disappear unless she holds me in place, as I fumble for my wallet, pull out a pile of bills, and toss them onto the bar. Then I’m leading her out of the bar by the hand as fast as we can go.

  It’s five minutes to my apartment, and I kiss her so hard and furiously in the cab that by the time we’re in the elevator on the way up to my floor, we’re both panting. Her cheeks are flushed from the drink and the kissing, and I need to be balls deep in her an hour ago.

  I can’t get the fucking key to work in the door as she rocks on her heels, her arms wrapped around me from behind. Finally the door swings open and I turn, gathering her into me, sweeping us both inside and slamming the door shut behind us with my foot.

  Then we’re tearing at each other’s clothes, leaving a trail of shirts and jeans and shoes all the way to my bedroom. When we reach my bed and the back of her knees meets the mattress, I guide her down so she’s laying on her back on my plush comforter with the full weight of my body on top of her. I drag my tongue across her collarbone, pausing to pay homage to her breasts, then inch down toward the flat expanse of her stomach. My tongue dives into her pink, dripping slit, and I devour her as she writhes wildly against the white comforter, urgent gasps escaping from her throat as she clutches at the bedclothes, her frame trembling in violent spasms as she comes in my mouth.

  While she’s still quivering, shaking, and crying out incoherently, I push myself up and straddle over her middle, lining myself up between her legs. I’m so possessed by raw lust that I can’t even think straight, so it’s a miracle that I remember to grab and roll on a condom from the bedside table before I’m thrusting into her, burying myself to the hilt in one stroke, and she’s clenching around me, her tight walls massaging my cock. Fuck, she feels good.

  I drive the pace, faster, harder, and she takes it all, meeting me every time with a rise of her hips, drawing me in, drawing me deep, until at last I explode inside of her, ramming my release into her core.

  The strength of my orgasm is so powerful it makes my head spin. For several minutes afterward I lay beside her, my face flush against her neck, breathing in lungfuls of her light, clean scent.

  The peaceful moment ends when she rocks her hips against me, inviting me to go another round.

  I rise to the occasion. With enthusiasm.

  Chapter 7

  Jessica

  Even a miserable Monday stuck behind my desk at the Colton-Hayes offices can’t quite kill my weekend buzz.

  Alec and I didn’t stop after the first time our bodies collided in a blaze of heat and passion, or even the second time. For the first time in my life, I spent the entire night entangled with a man who couldn’t get enough o
f me. He worshipped every single inch of my skin and every fold between my legs. Everything he did just made me wetter, hotter; made me want him more. The sun was rising before I even entertained the notion of stopping.

  At some point in the early morning, as I rode him in the semi-darkness of his bedroom, driving my weight down onto his cock with every thrust, I was overcome by a need to know more about this stranger who was lighting up every nerve in my body with electric pleasure. In that moment, my condition—no last names, no strings—seemed to border on the absurd.

  “Tell me your name,” I gasped, leaning down to bite his firm chest just above the nipple.

  He pulled my face up to his and kissed me hard and deep while I kept swirling my hips around him, pumping myself up and down his length. When he broke the kiss, he turned his face to whisper in my ear, “It’s Alec.” I could hear the smile in his voice, and I let out a laugh that quickly turned into a moan as he picked up the pace again.

  While I make my way to the break room to refill my tea—I hate the aftertaste coffee leaves in my mouth, but damn, after an entire night of no sleep and serious physical activity, plus another two days trying to work off my insane sexual appetite with exercise, I need something—the logical side of me battles with the memory of the unbelievable connection between us.

  And it is unbelievable. Alec and I are complete strangers. The fact that just thinking about him sends shivers down my spine doesn’t mean that I should abandon my one-and-done policy.

  As I heat up the water in the electric kettle, I let my mind wander, thinking about his muscles, the way his arms flexed as he lifted me effortlessly, the piercing green eyes that lingered on the curves of my breasts, the lips that teased every inch of my skin over and over until I was quaking with desire…

  Even so.

  I hang a tea bag over the edge of the cup and frown as a memory creeps in unbidden.

  Michael, screaming at me, face purple with rage, fists clenched at his sides, because I’d dared to go home to visit my parents for the weekend without telling him first. Facing his fury, my stomach had grown cold and my legs tensed, getting ready to run.