DIrty Dark Deceit: A Criminal Bad Boy Standalone

by Lacey Alpha

  His brow creases. “Do we have to talk about that?”

  I shrug but I long to know. I feel there's something lurking beneath all of his bravado. Everyone has some weakness to them. I wonder what his is.

  “Not if you don't want to.” I glance away, taking in the space again. “I can sleep here?”

  “Yes, I'll get you one of my shirts to wear. And there's a spare toothbrush in the bathroom.” He points toward a door. En suite. Fancy.

  “Thanks.” I hug my body, glancing up at his deep blue eyes. They're so alluring, I nearly lean in closer to get a better look.

  We stand silently for a moment and Logan shifts closer.

  “The shirt?” I prompt, my voice higher than normal.

  “Right, yeah.” He turns, exiting the room, the door snapping shut behind him.

  My shoulders drop and I realise my whole body is tense. What's the matter with me?

  Heading to the bathroom, I tug off my jeans, finding the spare toothbrush he mentioned in the cupboard. I spend an inordinate amount of time scrubbing my teeth, lost to my thoughts, thinking of tomorrow, of how I'll act, how I'll pull this off. What if I screw it up?

  A knock comes at the door and I spit the last of the toothpaste from my mouth, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. Moving to the door, I tug it open, discovering Logan there in his boxers, a blue t-shirt clamped in his hand.

  I eye his abs, the trail of dark hair leading below his waistband. I recall what he was saying to the shop attendant and can't help but think: is he really that big?

  “Shirt.” He holds it out to me, his eyes unashamedly tracing my bare legs.

  I feel both angry about that and a little proud. A man hasn't looked at me like that since...well, since Daniel. Oh god how pathetic is it that I've not slept with anyone else since him?

  “Night then,” I say firmly, staring him down. I have to make him stop looking at me like a hungry dog. The wine is making me attracted to him, nothing else. It would be the single worst mistake of my life to sleep with this man.

  I shoo him away and he laughs.

  “Night, sweetheart.” He turns, heading toward the door. “I'll be next door if you get lonely.”

  “And I'll be right here if you fancy a knee in the nuts.”

  His grin only widens. “Kinky, are we?”

  I point to the door with his shirt clamped tightly in my fist. “Go.”

  When he finally leaves, I strip out of my clothes, pulling on his top. It smells like him and I find myself breathing in the fresh scent as I crawl into bed. There's something very enticing about it, like even his washing powder is designed to lure women in.

  But I refuse to be one of those bimbos. I'm not going to be used and abused by Logan Chase. No sir-ee.

  ¸.•*´♥`*•.¸

  I wake, stretching my arms into the soft sheets. Wow, this bed is so much more comfortable than mine. I can't believe I actually stayed over.

  Checking my phone, I find twelve anxious messages from my mum – twelve!

  Shit. I should have texted her, it just completely slipped my mind. Despite being twenty five, she still treats me the same as Kelly.

  I tap out a quick text, not wanting to face a phone call. Jumping out of bed, I quickly brush my teeth and bundle my clothes into my handbag. I'm not sure whether to put on the red dress yet. I'd feel a little foolish. Instead, I remain in Logan's shirt, creeping out onto the landing, tugging it down over my thighs a little.

  Heading across the landing, I glance at the door to my right, guessing it leads to Logan's bedroom.

  I knock lightly, tugging my shirt down again, wishing I'd put some knickers on.

  Logan wrenches the door open, looking bleary-eyed as he takes me in.

  I glance down from his chest to his white boxers, my gaze landing on the massive bulge swelling in them.

  “Shit!” I cover my eyes, stepping backwards.

  Logan laughs in a low rumble. “Give me a minute, sweetheart. Morning glory and all that.”

  “Yes, whatever- yeah.” I back away, my hands still over my eyes.

  “Unless you wanna help a guy out?”

  I gasp, horrified. “You're disgusting!” I turn, running away, opening my eyes as I jog downstairs, his laughter following me.

  Oh my god. I cannot get that image out of my head! He's so – big.

  I find my way to the kitchen, working out the coffee machine and waiting whilst it does its thing. My heart rate slows but I grow more and more self conscious of the moment I have to face Logan again. And I'm still painfully aware of having no knickers on. More than ever now that I'm, well – let's put it this way – Niagra Falls has some competition right now.

  I anxiously tug the shirt down again, taking the coffee as it finishes pouring and moving to a circular breakfast bar of grey stone. I perch on a cool metal stool, crossing my legs and sipping my coffee.

  When I'm nearly finished the mug and I've got my heart rate under control, Logan enters, grinning at me, his chest still bare. Thankfully, he has a pair of black jogging bottoms in place.

  “Let's pretend that didn't happen,” I blurt.

  “If you like.” He shrugs. “I'm easy either way.” He moves to the fridge, taking out a loaf of bread and moving to the toaster.

  “You keep your bread in the fridge?”

  He shrugs. “It tastes better.”

  I break a smile as he plants several pieces in the six-slice toaster.

  “But you're toasting it anyway.”

  “But if I was having a sandwich, it would be nice and cold.”

  I laugh and he glances at me. “What?”

  I shake my head at him, saying nothing. Each to their own.

  When the toast is done, he takes his time buttering it before planting the stack at the centre of the breakfast bar and sitting beside me. I cross my legs tighter, feeling his eyes on me.

  “Nice shirt,” he teases, taking a piece of toast and eating it in barely three bites.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, tugging it down to my knees again.

  “You're not going to offend me with the sight of your boyish boxer briefs.”

  I shoot him a glare but it fails as my cheeks begin to burn.

  He gazes at me curiously, eating another piece of toast in two big bites. His eyes drop to my crotch and I feel like he's seeing right through the shirt.

  I squirm in my seat then hop down from it.

  “Unless you're not wearing any?” he says hopefully, tonguing his cheek.

  I hold the hem of the shirt in place, arranging my features into what I hope is a neutral expression. “What? Of course I am.” That lie wouldn't fool a three year old.

  He stands, eating more toast as he stalks toward me. “Show me then.”

  “What!?” I say in alarm. “No way.”

  He eyes me with a playful grin. “Go on. Prove it.”

  I shake my head several times and he steps closer, his fingers twitching.

  “Okay, okay – I'm not wearing any!” I blurt, breathless.

  His eyes scan down me as he slowly chews his bread. “Mm.”

  The simple sound sends heat rocketing to my crotch, leaving my knees weak.

  “What time does this party start?” I blurt, getting the subject firmly off of my lack of underwear.

  “Twelve.”

  I nod, backing up against the fridge. Logan moves toward me and I inhale as he reaches out. Instead of touching me as I expect, he takes hold of the fridge handle. “Excuse me.”

  I step aside, feeling foolish as he grabs out a carton of orange juice.

  “Juice?” he offers and I shrug.

  He pours me a glass and I start to relax, taking a piece of toast from the stack. I don't return to my seat, feeling safer on my feet.

  When I'm finished, I flash him a brief smile. “I'm gonna go shower...”

  “Sure. Think of me, won't you?”

  I glare at him before pattering out of the room, heading for the spiral staircase. As I ascend,
I spot Logan appear in the hall below me still munching on toast.

  “Don't you dare look up,” I warn, clenching my thighs as I run as fast I can upstairs.

  He starts laughing and heat flees up my neck. Oh no. This can't be happening.

  I practically dive onto the landing, jogging to my room and pushing inside.

  Stupid bloody stupid stupid arsehole.

  LOGAN

  “She dumped me.” Adam looks on the verge of tears. He's nearly fifteen and should not be crying over some chick.

  Fuck, I'm out of my depth here. I don't get feelings for girls.

  I drop onto the low wall outside our house, shrugging.

  “It hurts,” he complains.

  “Don't let it.” Simple.

  I was very tempted to look up, but even I'm not that much of a pervert. Darcy probably thinks I checked her out, seeing as I'm 'one of those guys'. I guess she's got me pegged on some things. I can't deny I've fucked my way through half the talent in London. But I'm not all bad. I don't think.

  I shower and dress in jeans and a black shirt, grabbing the comms device I ordered online. It's too easy to purchase shit like this.

  Taking the miniature camera out of its box, I spend some time hooking it up to my iPad so the feed streams live to it. It came with a simple silver broach in the shape of a flower for going covert. I pop the camera into a hole in the middle, clicking it into place.

  Lifting it up, I wave it around the room, watching the iPad as the footage is fed back to me.

  Grinning, I stand, packing up the gear in a backpack and heading out the door to find the missing piece to my plan: Darcy.

  Knocking on her door, I wait for her to answer, tucking the bag higher onto my shoulder.

  “Are you ready?” I call.

  The door flies open and a golf ball-sized lump jumps into my throat at the sight of her in that dress. Her breasts swell against the material, the slit down the middle exposing the gap between them. Double Ds...

  “Eyes up here,” she demands and I give her a lopsided smile, dragging my gaze away from her perfect tits.

  “Sorry, sweetheart. Ready to go?”

  “Yes and please stop calling me sweetheart.” She brushes past me into the hall and I turn on my heel, my eyes falling to her pert ass.

  “Right...” I say vaguely, distracted.

  She rounds on me at the top of the stairs, placing a hand on my chest. I glance up, the heat of her palm burning through my shirt. That expression makes my boxers tight.

  “Stop ogling me. I am not one of your slutty little one night stands. I am your partner in this. And you need to treat me with some respect.”

  Woah. Her words get me hot under the collar. I start nodding, irrationally wanting to please her.

  “Good,” she says simply, seeming a little surprised by my reaction. I'm a little sur-fucking-prised myself.

  She heads upstairs and I fix my eyes on the exposed skin below her neck. Her hair is pulled to one side over her shoulder but a loose curl hangs down her spine. As we reach the pool room, I'm overcome by an urge. I take hold of the curl, sliding it over her shoulder, brushing my fingers through her silken strands.

  She glances at me, her eyes glowing. I drop my gaze to her parted lips, painted in red to match the dress. What I'd give to taste those lips...

  “Shall we go?” She lifts a brow, looking stern.

  I nod, pressing my thumb to the fingerprint scanner and the door to the sky garage clicks open. I hold it wide. “After you.”

  “So you can look at my ass again? No thanks.”

  I regard her with a grin. “It's a nice ass.”

  She huffs then storms past me, her heels clacking against the concrete floor. I follow her, taking her waist and guiding her toward my Land Rover SUV, opening the passenger door for her.

  She climbs inside and I shut the door, joining her in the cab a minute later. “The windows are blacked out so we have complete privacy.”

  “Oh good,” she says dryly. “So no one will see me when I do this.” She puts her middle finger up at me and I grin, wanting to suck that finger whole.

  Shit. Gotta get my head in the game.

  “Enough of the sarcasm, I need you to focus.” I take out the broach from my bag, leaning across to pin it onto her dress.

  My fingers graze her breast and she smacks my hand away, snatching the pin from my hand. “I'll do it.”

  “It's a camera,” I inform her, leaning away, fighting a grin.

  I turn the key in the ignition, driving out of the sky garage and circling down to the front gate. It slides open as I approach and I accelerate through it.

  “So what's the plan?” Darcy asks, sounding nervous.

  “I'll drop you off at Heathcote's manor. Just act like you belong there, mix with the crowd. And when you get a chance, you need to get Heathcote talking. There's no room for error, Darcy. There will be other women there. Hot women. So I need you to be the one that grabs his attention.”

  She takes a deep breath. “I'll try.”

  “I'm relying on you.” I place a hand on her knee, squeezing. I'm surprised to find she leaves it in place. Dare I hope I'm getting somewhere with the decadent Darcy?

  “You'll be in my ear?” she asks hopefully.

  “Yep.” I remove my hand, merging into the heavy line of traffic crossing over Chelsea bridge.

  “And what if he figures out who I am?” she asks anxiously.

  “He won't. Just keep your cool. If you want me to get you out of there, just give me a codeword.”

  “Like what?”

  I think about it. “Complain about how tight your dress feels.” I glance at her waist, grinning.

  “Not an issue,” she mutters, a smile in her voice.

  “It's uncomfortable?”

  “All dresses that make a woman look good are uncomfortable.”

  “I think you're doing more work than the dress is,” I remark.

  “That was almost a sweet thing to say.” She laughs softly and my chest swells at the musical sound.

  “It's been known to happen.”

  Before we arrive at the house, I pull over at the side of the street, taking out the comms earpiece and moving across the space between us. “I'll be able to talk to you through this.”

  I brush her hair aside and she dips her head, going still as she lets me set it up for her. I place the device on my index finger, pushing it gently into her ear.

  “That okay?” I confirm and she nods, her cheeks pinking.

  Oh man, was that blush because I touched her?

  I drop her hair, purposefully brushing my fingers over her neck. I'd bite that neck, I'd taste every inch whilst I fucked her raw.

  She clears her throat and I move away, hoping I've finally started to affect her.

  Before I continue the drive, I spy her wringing her hands together and guilt trickles into my gut.

  No, pussy. Don't give her any leeway. Think of the job. Remember why you're doing this.

  Blinking hard, I place a hand on her wrist, compelled to give her an out despite myself.

  “Look, if you really don't want to do this. I'm not going to make you.”

  She glances up, her cloudy eyes going wide in surprise. “But I owe you.”

  It feels so good to hear her say those words and a smile drags up my lips in response. “I'm sure we could think of another way for you to repay me,” I tease.

  She wrinkles her nose. “I think I'd rather risk jail, thanks.”

  Annnnd we're back to that. I remove my hand in a flash, placing it on the steering wheel, rejection rolling through me. Why is she so against me? Is it really just because I've been with a lot of women? It drives me fucking crazy.

  I drum my fingers on the steering wheel as I pull away, heading down the road and turning onto the street that's home to Ralph Heathcote's manor.

  I push all thoughts of Darcy's hostility towards me from my mind. I'm on the job now. Nothing can go wrong. I have to play this
by the book.

  Digging into my pocket for my wallet, I take out the forged invitation and hand it to her.

  She unfolds it in her palm, sucking her lip nervously.

  “You can do this,” I say firmly, needing her to.

  She nods stiffly. “Okay.”

  “I'll be close.”

  She nods again, opening the door to the SUV.

  I grab her wrist before she leaves, my heart rate rising. “You're beautiful, there's no way he'll be able to resist you.”

  I release her wrist and her brows lower at me for half a second before she slips away, shutting the door behind her.

  I sag in my seat, watching her approach the single gate at the end of the street.

  I pull away down the road, heading around the block, following the border of Heathcote's estate. I've scouted out this house a hundred times. I know the weak points. I know the blind spots on the cameras. I've been preparing to do this for years. And I'm finally going to get some revenge on this motherfucker.

  DARCY

  I walk as confidently as I can up to the main gate, pressing my shoulders back. There's a burly guard inside a booth, talking on a walkie talkie.

  “Hi.” I approach, flicking my hair over one shoulder. I can do this. “I'm here for the party.”

  “Hold on a sec Ted-” he turns to me. “– invite?” His eyes trail down my body as I pass it to him.

  He's chewing gum, open mouthed, looking like he'd rather be chewing on me. I fight the urge to grimace.

  His eyes finally drop to the invite and he nods, pressing a button on the panel in front of him. “Go on in, gorgeous.”

  I flash him a bright smile - despite my insides shrivelling - and slip through the steel gate as it opens.

  The driveway runs directly up to the house, splitting into two prongs around a pond full of lily pads. I take the left fork, heading toward the symmetrical white house up ahead. It sits atop a hill, accessed by a bridge, with steps leading up either side and three arches below. Woah. This guy is loaded. Like spends his summers on a yacht loaded.

  There's a crowd of people at the top of the bridge, laughing and drinking champagne under a white gazebo.

  I move to join them, taking in a deep breath to calm my nerves.