Claire's Bad Boy (Date Monsters For Bad Boys Book 1)

by Lisa Daniels

  “People usually get the most expensive items?” she asked sympathetically. Tomas leaned back, emitting a confident, casual posture.

  “Yeah—wine bottles for two hundred a piece. Fancy-ass foods. I usually find an excuse to leave the meal at some point so they have to pay. Or, well, if they’re pretty enough...” He left it hanging, but Claire, by now dosed up on a crash course of all of Kallen’s advice, no longer found herself blushing every time someone mentioned some innuendo or something outright sexual. Progress!

  “Oh, I expected we’d go half-and-half,” she said, since it seemed only fair to do so.

  “No, this is my treat. I’ve got the money to do so, after all.”

  And there’s the allusion to wealth, Claire thought. It didn’t work on her, because she’d already stabilized herself through her work. Which she was due to return to in under two weeks’ time. She didn’t mind doing this date, but the poor man didn’t realize she had no intention of taking things further. Unless, of course, she decided she liked him enough, and no longer needed to keep on following Kallen’s words. He was training her to become a good sex-seeker while preserving her own dignity. Not quite yet teaching her to “release” her wide side like Rita kept going on and on about.

  “I don’t mind paying,” she said, and the man let out a sigh. “We’re going to keep doing this back and forth and eventually I’m going to bull my way through and pay anyway. So let’s cut through that and say I win the argument.”

  “Sure,” she said. To be honest, Tomas actually seemed like a nice man. Handsome enough, though he didn’t have that smoldering intensity Kallen possessed. Still someone way out of her league, naturally. They ate their food (she’d opted for steak and fries, he went for a T-bone which was almost double the price of hers), and they talked about each other’s backgrounds.

  During their conversation, Claire noticed, with a kind of crushing sense of anxiety, that the ground she had to cover was bare bones compared to Tomas, who, by his reckoning, had traveled the entire world, almost died in a hiking accident—and a sky-diving one, not to mention that one time in the water with the sharks—and had known many beautiful women. He oozed excitement and success, and she sat there, feeling increasingly inadequate by the moment.

  So, to her alarm, she’d started making up things about herself she’d never done. Just to keep up.

  “Yeah, I went with my friends to try and climb Mount Everest. We reached the fourth base camp before Rita got altitude sickness, and there was such a strong blizzard that we waited too long and had to head back, before we ran out of supplies.”

  “Wow,” Tomas said, looking her up and down as if she were about to erupt in mountain hiking gear. “Were you sponsored for that?”

  “Oh, only for a local charity. The Dog Shelter fund,” she said. Then, before he could continue his questioning of her completely made-up tale, she rushed to, “I’ve never done sky diving, though. What’s that like?” Which thankfully got him into a diatribe about the training he needed to do, and allowed her to breathe a silent sigh of relief. She wasn’t very good at lying. Maybe he knew she was.

  By the end, he asked for a second date, and she almost accepted. He really was a nice person. But she’d lied. He’d want to be dating the exciting Mount Everest climbing woman. Not the sad loser who was paying someone to help her be less of a sad loser. When she let him down, he took it like a champ—which in turn made her wonder if letting him go might amount to one of the bigger mistakes she’d make in her life. She got on the bus away from him, rather than accepting his offer to drive her home, but got off one stop later to meet up with Rita and Kallen in an arcade.

  “It looked like it went well,” Kallen said, while Rita chirped for details.

  “He actually seemed like a really decent guy,” Claire said. “But I lied to him like a pig.”

  “You lied?” Kallen folded his arms, orange eyes turning a little judgmental. “Why?”

  “Well… he was saying all the amazing things he’d done, and it made me feel like some great fat whale sitting there, smiling about what he’d done while I had crap all to show for my own life.” The sliver of familiar panic began to weave through her body. “I’m thirty. What have I got to show for it?”

  “Ah,” Kallen said, suddenly thoughtful. When she told him about her Mount Everest talk, he actually chuckled. “Can’t say I blame you, then. But you didn’t ask for another date, did you?”

  “No. I didn’t want to date him on a lie.”

  Kallen nodded approvingly. “Yes… very good. Men are humans, too. It’s never good to start a relationship on a lie.” The distant expression on his face suggested he might have had some experience on that front. She wanted to ask, but not in front of Rita. Not while her best friend sized up Kallen like a piece of meat she very much wanted to sample.

  “Only doing what you taught me,” Claire said blithely, wondering why she felt jealous. There was no reason to be. Let Rita have Kallen if she wanted. What did it matter to Claire, anyway? “Though I now feel like I have nothing… interesting to reel anyone in with.”

  “Eh, usually the hot booty is enough,” Kallen said with a smirk. He stood up from his metal stool to softly stride over to Claire, who instead had chosen to stand up, bracing her hands upon the leather on her stool. Rita watched, her smile freezing in place. “If you want a more serious relationship, there would be some more development there. But that’s for another time. So you didn’t feel that there was anything off with the guy?”

  “None,” Claire said. “Just seemed like a genuine, sweet person.”

  Kallen nodded. “I checked him out online for any information about him. He’s quite active on social media. Does seem to be a decent person. He’s also married with a kid.”

  Claire gaped. “What? Really?” She scrambled to think about her conversation with Tomas. “He didn’t mention anything like that!”

  “Could be an open relationship,” Kallen said, shrugging. “I can’t completely judge. Maybe the wife is in on it. Maybe he’s fishing for a third to spice up their sex lives. All sorts of reasons, not all of them bad. But he was hiding something from you. So you weren’t the only one to tell lies.” Kallen grinned when Claire slumped.

  “I had no idea.”

  “With the good ones, you usually don’t. To be fair, he was probably looking for a fling only. Which would suit what you want to do fine, right?”

  “Not if I ended up destroying some other woman’s relationship!” Claire barked, noting how Rita grimaced. “No offense to you or anything.”

  “I’ve been with a few guys who lied their asses off to me,” Rita said. “Water under the bridge.”

  Kallen squinted at Rita, though he didn’t move away from Claire. If she wanted to, he was within a hand’s reach. “You could learn a lot from your friend here, Claire.”

  “I tried,” Rita said morosely. “She doesn’t listen.”

  Claire avoided the bait from Rita, and sighed at the shade being thrown her way. “I just don’t have the experience.”

  “Then get it,” Kallen said.

  Ha, ha, Claire thought sourly.

  The next day, feeling mostly miserable from thinking of all the things she hadn’t done, she received a call from Kallen inviting her out to a theme park. She accepted, although it did sound suspiciously like a date.

  “Alright,” Kallen said, when they were at the entrance to an outdoor one some four hours’ drive later, with a quick pit stop for food along the motorway when their stomachs grumbled. “Since you’re clearly miserable about the fact that you don’t have that much life experience, let’s give you some. Theme parks, bowling, flying to other countries, whatever. You still have time off before you go back to work, right?”

  “Yeah.” Excitement wriggled through Claire when she saw the park in all its glory. Rollercoasters, ghost trains, indoor slides, and outdoor log flumes. A boating lake, numerous types of rides, and an airborne pedal car hung by metal railings assaulted her eye
s.

  “It’s not Disneyland, I know, but it’s a start.”

  “I’ve never been to one of these before...” Claire felt like a fourteen-year-old again. The weight of all her years didn’t press. The fear of achieving nothing more worthwhile than her stable publishing job didn’t loom.

  “I don’t really go to places like this either,” Kallen admitted, smiling at her. “I mostly frequent bars. I’ve been around the world because of my job demanding it. I don’t only entertain American women, after all. Your job doesn’t seem like it allows you to travel the world. Ever thought about getting a different one?”

  “Sometimes,” Claire confessed, chewing her bottom lip. Something about the way Kallen stood, and the way other people glanced at them, made her feel proud, in a way, to have him by her side. Even if she was paying for the privilege. And wasn’t so sure about his methodology when it came to the training. Though at least she could control her own reactions around men better now, and pick out the good and bad ones better. Sort of.

  She wasn’t sure if she should be enjoying these activities. She was getting older, after all, and people expected different things from her.

  It also did look like Kallen enjoyed the experience as much as she did. Though again, there was that clawing sense of doubt that she had wasted an awful lot of money on him.

  That wasted money showed itself in other ways. A day trip to another state. A two-day trip to Canada to visit Vancouver, just to add it to her list of things to have done. Again, she disliked the bustling chaos of the city, even if Vancouver itself seemed more organized, somehow, than the others she had seen. All the while, Kallen tried to teach her how to flirt, though he only knew from the male perspective what he liked. Fluttering her eyelashes. Smiling when listening. Gently prompting the man with more funnel points in their conversation. All this if she ever wanted to go out to get someone.

  His training was helping, if a little unorthodox. He assisted her with being more comfortable around men, with not seeing them as some alien entity to conquer or be afraid of, but as people with selfishness and selflessness, as much as any other person.

  With a mystery unraveling before her, she could pay attention to other matters. Like how Kallen seemed to command the presence of people around him. How some of the women stared at him with a hunger she recognized, including Rita.

  Animal magnetism. Dangerous.

  A great stab of disappointment hit her when one more evening remained before returning to the monotonous routine of work. How strange. Before hiring Kallen, she’d been more than eager to go back to it, but her boss insisted on Claire using up some weeks. Especially since work dropped in hours needed in the winter months. When Kallen spoke to her at times, she felt every word in her body, her flesh, and something strange bloomed in her stomach.

  Something that told her she didn’t want him to go just yet. Yanking on her black coat, she prepared to head outside, knowing Kallen was waiting for her. Well, he wasn’t going just because she started work again. She’d wrap up every shift by five. She’d—

  “Hey,” Kallen said, standing right outside the door, and she let out a shriek of surprise.

  “You’re not supposed to be here yet!”

  “I know where you live. Figured it’d save some time if I came here.”

  “Without telling me?”

  “I wanted to see how you would react. You didn’t disappoint,” he said with a mischievous grin. He was dressed up neater than usual, with a red bow-tie and only one button undone from the top of his shirt now. Progress. “I’ve never worn a bow-tie before,” he admitted, seeing where she was looking. “Doesn’t usually go with the image I try to cultivate.”

  “What, the one where you’re oozing bad-boy vibes?” she said, though to her, it seemed a natural state of being for Kallen. He merely twitched one eyebrow at her, studying her own outfit—a rather racy dress by Claire standards, for sure. The bottom reached just above the knees, and it meant that she needed to be careful with how she sat or bent over, as the dress greatly restricted movement. It needed to, if she didn’t want it riding past her hips at the first opportunity, though she needed to pep talk herself in the mirror for ten minutes to be convinced of wearing the one item in her wardrobe collecting dust over the years. Bought in a fit of wildness because she wanted something different, then never got around to actually wearing it and being different.

  “Bold choice,” he stated, pupils slightly blown. “The men’ll be on you like wolves if you flaunt that around.”

  “Ha.” She flushed, shy from the compliment. “As long as they take it in turns, it’ll be fine.”

  “You’ll be the one encouraging them, after all. Tell me—after everything we’ve done, do you still want to be able to pull men for brief flings?”

  No, was Claire’s instant thought. “Yes,” she said. Maybe he heard a hesitation in her voice, because he gave her a strange look. Truthfully, Claire didn’t want flings. Sure, she wanted more excitement. But she was getting older. Tick-tick ticking. She wanted something more stable, more in the line of tradition.

  She just didn’t think she’d be able to get it with her lifestyle, if her former record of boyfriends was any indication of what would happen. This last test that Kallen wanted to put her through was based on a false assumption. That Claire wanted what Rita expected out of life.

  “So be it,” he said. “We’re going to the Full Moon bar.”

  Full Moon bar? Claire gaped at him. “Wait, are you sure?”

  “Obviously,” he said, gesturing for her to get in his blue SUV. “If I recall, your former premise was to have a one-night stand with a werewolf. The Full Moon bar by the edge of the forest you humans are scared to go in does have werewolves interested in… human relations, shall we say. I checked it out myself. You’ll be surprised which humans from your town and beyond end up there.”

  “Oh,” Claire said. Her heart felt stuck in her throat, unwilling to unlock and give her words. Words like, but what if I don’t want it to be with a werewolf stranger anymore? What if I want it to be with you?

  But that was nonsense. This was a man who liked the thrill of the chase, the conquest of another woman in bed. Though he taught her how to do the same with men, she knew that his view of women was still… shuttered. Sure, women did have things going on for them, but it was all about the sex with him. All about knowing how to manipulate for mutual gain.

  Not the kind of person she could keep. A client, nothing more.

  Though she smiled and nodded that she wanted this, in her heart, she felt like she was consigning herself to the pyre. But she’d spent an awful lot of money to do this, and well, she wanted to waste none of it.

  “We can back out of this if you want, though,” Kallen said, not bothering to drive yet. “I’m not planning to pimp you out or anything. I’m here to watch you progress. Get something that you want.”

  There it was again. Another chance to escape. Another chance for her to get out. She felt absurdly grateful, but again, panic invaded her mind.

  “Thanks, but this will be just fine.” She sighed and secured her seatbelt, using her handbag to cover the bottom of her dress. “I’ll need to know all this for future reference anyway. I’ve always had a sore track record when it comes to men.”

  “Mm. I feel like you’ve never taken much time to get to know yourself,” Kallen said. His deep voice sounded sincere. “Your house feels empty when I go into it, you know. No family portraits or souvenirs of your travels anywhere. Even the few we got from the places we went don’t seem to be on display.”

  Claire’s heart squeezed painfully. It was true—she’d tucked away a theme park figurine simply because she didn’t like having pointless things in the place, and had mostly got it for Kallen’s benefit. The same with a coaster from a bar, and a fake rose given to her by a first-timer date.

  Kallen drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Do you have a good relationship with your parents?”

  “It’
s okay. I see them on all the holidays. They live quite far out now in the country, running their own farm,” she replied.

  “Successful parents. There weren’t any issues growing up with them, then?”

  “None. I was a pretty obedient child. Always wanted their approval. Did well at school.” A memory crept into her skull. “They’d always praise me for my choices. Get disappointed if I ever went out with my friends.”

  At this, Kallen let out a snorting laugh. “Sounds like they thoroughly whitewashed your life. Being a good and polite child generally leads to a very boring adult.”

  “I...” What could she say to this? It was true. Her parents wanted the perfect upbringing for her. It meant her avoiding all the mistakes they themselves made, always impressing upon her the importance of what she did. “I wish I had done this when I was younger, I would be in a much better place than I am today. Be grateful you’ve been given the chances we weren’t.”

  In a way, they’d hermetically sealed her upbringing. And she just trundled right into adulthood, still working by the same ethos. In that moment, despite all the effort her parents had put into raising her, she hated them.

  And then felt ashamed for hating them.

  “I don’t think you’re boring, just so you know,” Kallen said then, quieting the voices in her head. “And frankly, I’m surprised you let me do this. Figured we’d just be a one and done. Not that I’d get to teach someone, and have you experience things for the first time.” He grinned. “Some of them were first-timers for me, too. Werewolves tend to be very family oriented, rarely leaving the den in their first decade.”

  Didn’t Kallen say he was no longer with his pack? Claire struggled with the idea, but knew it caused him some pain, whatever he said to cover it up. “Do you—is there a chance you can ever get… back to your pack?” She hated that she sounded apologetic for her question, softening her voice as if scared of offending him. He’d told her not to feel like she was intruding with her questions.

  His orange eyes flashed, and his fingers tightened on the wheel of the still car. She worried he might not answer at all. “I don’t think so,” he said finally. “What transpired between us… well…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”