Tailored for Trouble: A Romantic Comedy (Happy Pants)

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  The doors began to close, and men in conductor uniforms began pushing, their shoes squeaking as their heels slipped over the white tile floor. The already sardine-ized people inside didn’t protest, groan, or make so much as a face as the invasion of their personal space crossed over into “Hey! Only my doctor gets to go in there,” territory.

  Taylor’s jaw dropped. She’d heard about “the pushers” but didn’t believe they actually existed. Guess I’m not getting on that train. Besides, she’d had her quota of dry humping for the day.

  A moderately full train on the opposite side of the platform pulled up. It had enough room for her to board without having to get intimate.

  She glanced at the giant map of colorful squiggles on the wall. Okay, that train looks like it’s going north. She knew the airport was northeast, so maybe she could work her way around the rush hour traffic and stay off the congested lines. She’d have to make more transfers, but it might work.

  She glanced at her watch, noting she had two hours. She hobbled along with her oversized travel monstrosity, swearing to never pack more than clean underwear and a toothbrush in the future.

  Ten minutes later

  Dammit! This isn’t north, she thought, staring at the multicolored clusterfuck (or “map”) inside the brightly lit, sterile-looking train car filled with passengers that had the whole avoiding eye contact thing down to an art.

  She leaned toward an older woman in a tan trench coat standing next to her. “Excuse me? Do you speak English?”

  The woman, who wouldn’t look at her, stepped away to the side.

  Taylor sighed. Okay, I get the point. The train is a do not disturb zone.

  She glanced back up at the map. Apparently they were heading west, away from the airport and to the other side of Tokyo.

  She hopped off at the next station and saw another train going in the opposite direction. It, too, wasn’t all that full. She glanced at the signage and the name above said “Tonzai.” I think that’s the one I want.

  She ran and caught it, deciding to pick out her transfer station once on board. Just as long as she was heading in the right direction.

  Ten minutes later

  “Come on!” Now she headed south instead of north. Haven’t I paid my crappy-day dues already? After the night with Bennett and their “discussion” this morning, she just couldn’t take any more ripples in her pond. She just wanted to get home and lick her wounds.

  She got off on the platform at the next station and went to the crazy map of silly town, while people flowed past her like river water around a rock.

  With her finger, she found her current location and laughed, throwing up her hands. She’d managed to travel exactly to the other side of her hotel. Underground. Like a brain-farting gopher.

  She shook her head. Okay, maybe it was time to catch a cab. Then again, it would probably end up being more than she could afford, especially after last night’s two hundred and fifty dollars’ worth of rides.

  “Good God. How did I get to this sad, sad place?” She was officially poorer than a church mouse.

  “By sheer goddamned stubbornness!” barked a deep, angry voice.

  Taylor swiveled on her heel to find Bennett in his immaculate suit, looming right over her with a rage-red face, his brow dewy with sweat.

  “Bennett?” she gasped his name.

  Snarling, he grabbed her by the elbow and snagged her suitcase with his other hand. “You have some goddamned nerve, Ms. Reed.”

  She stumbled forward and pushed away from him. “What in the world has gotten into you? And what are you doing here?”

  “Don’t pretend for one goddamned minute,” he said in a raised voice, “that you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  Man. She’d never seen anyone so upset. “I really, really don’t know.” She raised her palms. “But whatever it is you think I’ve done…” Oh shit. Oh shit. I do know. He found out about my phony training module. It then dawned on her that he’d been snooping around her laptop. He must’ve sent himself both modules and put it together that one was bogus?

  “You’re a cruel, cruel woman, Ms. Reed.” He grabbed her hand and began pulling her along.

  “Bennett, I can explain.” She began to panic. Not that he’d physically hurt her, but she sensed he was about to read her the riot act.

  “I think we’re fucking past explaining,” he seethed.

  “Bennett! I’m sorry.” She trailed behind him, his hand tightly squeezing hers in a death grip. He scanned some card at the set of stainless steel turnstiles, and they stumbled through. He then lifted her enormous suitcase with one arm, effortlessly toting it up two flights of stairs—Show off! They emerged outside onto a busy, pedestrian-packed sidewalk lined with towering office buildings and flashing, multicolored billboards with Japanese characters. The early morning sun hit her face, and the sound of traffic instantly flooded her ears. She wondered if that was why Bennett ignored her pleas to stop.

  Grumbling like an angry ogre, he hauled her toward an awaiting limo at the curb.

  “Bennett. Stop!” She dug her heels into the sidewalk and yanked back her hand. The people around them kept on going, acting like she and Bennett were invisible.

  Good. Because this is about to get ugly.

  “I’m sorry, okay,” she said, staring into his fuming face from a few yards away. “I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Don’t lie to me, Ms. Reed.” He closed in on her. “Not only is it beneath you, but you’re terrible at it and fool no one.”

  She wasn’t lying. Why did he think that? She honestly couldn’t feel more sorry. That said…“I know you’re upset, but don’t forget the part you played. I’m not the one who decided to make a bet with my friends.”

  Rage filled his eyes. “That’s no excuse to behave like a child, and you know it.”

  It sure the hell was! But regardless…“I changed my mind after I realized how stupid it was.” That, and revenge wouldn’t accomplish anything except making her feel even more pathetic.

  “Oh,” he laughed acerbically. “That was you changing your mind? Nice try. I’ve been chasing you from station to station. And you knew I’d follow, didn’t you?”

  What? “Uhh…no. I didn’t.”

  “What the hell else was I going to think when I lost your signal?”

  Taylor stared at Bennett, completely perplexed. “Wait. I’m confused. What signal?”

  He glanced at the brown leather purse slung over her shoulder, and then it clicked.

  “You’re,” she pointed to her bag, “talking about your cell-phone?”

  “What the hell else would I be talking about?”

  Oh no. He’s not talking about the modules. “Uh…me leaving without saying goodbye?” Oh God. I am such a horrible liar.

  He shot her a look as if trying to figure her out.

  Ugh. This is silly. What am I doing? She was done with this mess and done with him.

  She dug the device from her purse—it had reception, but probably blinked out when she’d been underground. In any case, so the hell what? This was ridiculous!

  She shoved it at him. “Here. Take it. I don’t want it any…” She noticed Bennett’s face turning pale. “Ohmygod, Bennett. Are you okay?” She reached for his upper arm and absolutely did not take note of the firm biceps she needed two hands to grip. Nope.

  He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath.

  “You’re not going to pass out on me again, are you?” She wondered if she could manage to get such a large man over to the limo by herself.

  He shook his head and then snapped his eyes open. “I’m fine,” he growled. “But now I’ve missed my flight window. And my very important meeting.”

  “Bennett,” she said, with an artificial calm, “why would you do that?” His behavior was completely irrational.

  She still had hold of his arm—I can’t seem to let go—so when he looked down at her, their faces were separated only by hi
s height. Deep, hard emotion flickered in his lovely eyes. “I thought—I thought…” He rubbed his face. “Your signal went dead, and you weren’t answering your personal cell, and then the tracker on your other phone kept blinking. I thought the worst.”

  All right. Bennett’s fixation had crossed the line from a little eccentric and kinky to very, very stalker-like—and not at all in a fun way. “But why are you even following the signal in the first place?”

  “I have a…thing,” he mumbled, running his hand over his messy dark hair.

  Damn. The man just had to look hot no matter what he did. Even now—pissed off, one black eye, a small bandage behind his ear—he still looked like he’d just wandered out of a photo shoot for sexy, reckless billionaires with an addiction to fake fugu.

  She shook it off and lifted one brow. “A…thing?”

  “Yes, for fuck sake. A thing. I don’t wish to discuss it,” he added, “but I warned you to never turn it off.”

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into you or what your ‘thing’ is, but your need to control me or have twenty-four-seven access to me or whatever—it’s over. We are no longer working together. You fucked me, Bennett. You fucked me hard!”

  He blinked, and she gasped, realizing what she said. “Ohgod. I-I…” Of course, she’d meant that figuratively, as in “fucked over,” but her f-bomb elicited a startling reaction.

  Bennett’s eyes slowly moved to her lips and down her body, and she imagined what it would feel like if his mouth and hands made the same journey.

  Her chest tightened. Her core tightened. The way he looked at her was harshly sexual, and she goddamned liked it.

  She cleared her throat. “I—I meant screwed—No. I meant—”

  He snapped out of whatever dirty place he’d mentally ventured to. “I know what you meant. Are you getting in the limo or not?”

  Who does he think he is, all bossy and demanding? It so made her want to go with him. “I told you we’re done.” A wicked something gleamed in his beautiful eyes before they moved to her lips again. Suddenly, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into him, his full lips crashing against her very shocked mouth. A moment passed as her mind caught up with her body. Nope. No conflict there. Both were doing a little cancan, kicking in time with wild enthusiasm.

  His soft lips were warm and sensually firm. His rough stubble scraped deliciously against her delicate skin. His scent was everything intoxicating—a spicy, hedonistic mixture of premium cologne and a hint of fresh sweat from the running around he’d just been doing.

  He leaned her back, bowing over her body and supporting her effortlessly with his strong arm while his wicked tongue glided between her teeth. He felt so hot and sinful and nectarous inside her body. Her mind went wild imagining the many methods of penetration she wanted to experience with Bennett’s other body parts.

  Her hands slid up and over the sleeves of his blazer, feeling his firm, thick arms flexing and stretching the fabric. He felt just as delish as she’d imagined. Not that she had. Okay, she might’ve. Yes, yes. Many sad little times, with many more to follow especially considering last night he’d had his hand shoved down her panties, stroking her throbbing little jellybean of pleasure.

  No. This is crazy. You need to stop. You need to go home and end this. She was at serious risk of wanting this man for more than just his lean hard frame and gorgeous face.

  But his kiss is so…raw and sexy and hot. Like he was making love to her with his mouth.

  Okay, we’ll have some innocent mouth sex. Just good old-fashioned, wholesome mouth sex. And that’s it.

  Taylor allowed herself to melt into his kiss, but held back from giving more—no subtle pressing of her breasts into his chiseled chest to satisfy her aching nipples’ need to be touched, no pushing her throbbing c-spot a few centimeters toward his pelvis to relieve that excruciating tension, no gentle squeeze of her fingers over his generous biceps flexing beneath her hand. It took everything she had to only allow the moment to be the kiss and nothing more.

  Whether he sensed it subconsciously or not, the lack of her physical submission—those subtle sexual cues that told a man if he was winning the battle over a woman’s resolve—only made him deepen the anger-tainted, punishing assault on her willpower. It was like he wanted to tame her with his kiss, own her with it, make her his with it.

  I’m only giving you this, Bennett. Just this and nothing more.

  Maybe it was her imagination, but the more she attempted to contain the panty-dropping effects of his warm body pressing to hers, the more his sinfully skilled tongue felt like an erotic dancer inside her mouth, working that pole determined to get the last twenty in her hand.

  He pressed his mouth harder to hers, his tongue pushing deeper inside her, becoming more demanding, more sexual in its rhythm. Then she felt something infinitely more erotic: his huge, stiff penis pushing into her stomach.

  Oh God. He does not play fair. A part of her knew they were standing on a busy sidewalk in the middle of Tokyo where the fine citizens probably did not appreciate two foreigners making out like horny teenagers on a path to accidental parenthood, but she just didn’t care. With each stroke of his tongue and the sensual massaging of his large warm hand over her back, her inner thighs quivered, her core throbbed, and her entire body sizzled. Bennett tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her so close.

  Okay. You win, Bennett. Closer. I need to be closer, was all she could think. Where’s the damned pusher now? Because she’d love to be pushed all the way back to a hotel room to finish what they started last night.

  Suddenly, Bennett pulled away and released her. His lips were red and wet, and he had a wild look in his eyes. She, on the other hand, probably looked like someone had smacked her upside the head with a phone book. She swore she saw stars circling over his head, and she felt like she might actually pass out. Oh God. He kissed the breath out of me. He’d punished her with his mouth and tongue and showed her who was boss.

  The sun caught the tiny flecks of brown in his thick multi-day stubble, and a wicked little victory-smirk danced across his lips. Yes, dammit, he knew he’d conquered her resolve.

  “I’m glad you changed your mind,” he said with supreme cockiness.

  She blinked at him, unable to think straight. “Huh?”

  “About coming with me to Paris.”

  “But I…”

  He took her hand and grabbed her suitcase handle. She stumbled along, and Bennett tapped on the window of the limo. The driver appeared and opened the rear passenger door. Bennett gestured for her to get in, but her feet couldn’t move.

  “Don’t make me do it again.” His victory smirk turned into a frown.

  “But…but…” Her mind was spinning. There was that horrible bet with his friends—I should be mad right now—and there was the way he touched her last night—okay, I should be dry humping him right now—and then there was the way he bossed her around like he owned her and that cellphone stalking and—

  “Taylor, this is one of those moments you shouldn’t overthink. Get in. Please,” he added. How he managed to make the word “please” sound like a command, she’d never know, but she sensed it was the closest this man would ever come to asking nicely.

  Nope. Feet not moving. Maybe the powers that be inside her—heart, body, soul—weren’t as aligned as she’d thought.

  He sighed exasperatedly. “Opening up doesn’t come easily for me, Taylor. But I promise, if you give me time, you’ll understand my actions. All of them. I’m not a bad guy. I just…do things my way. It’s the only way I know how.”

  She opened her mouth and wanted to say a million different things to him, starting with asking why he’d kissed her like that, why he’d played a hand in ruining her reputation, and why he’d freaked the hell out because her cell reception dropped. “Not good enough.”

  He laughed and rubbed his whiskered jaw, shaking his head. She noticed then how he had a prominent bulge pressing against his nicely tailo
red black pants.

  Holy crap, it’s huuuge. She could see the distinct outline of his rigid shaft starting from the base directly between his legs, jutting to the side of his upper thigh, contained by his well-fitted pants. He was so thick and long and firm and…

  She licked her lips.

  Bennett cleared his throat. “All right. This time I can’t blame you for looking.”

  Her eyes reluctantly met his. “I’m…I’m…” Nope. Not feeling any shame.

  “Yes?” he asked, a pleased sort of devilish expression on his face.

  He’s proud! He’s actually proud that I’ve just looked at his enormous cock and licked my lips like a hungry little slut.

  “You’ll do anything to win, won’t you?” she said.

  He shrugged and grinned. “I’m a man with many gifts. Nothing wrong with that. Are you getting in?” His eyes flashed to the gleaming black limo.

  She hissed out a breath. “You want me to get in and do what?” After all, he was aroused and riled up. She was aroused and hotter than hell for him. Please say you want to—

  “Train me.” He paused. “And trust me.”

  Not what I was hoping for.

  Wait. What? Get your head out of your ass, Tay. This guy kisses you and suddenly you’re going all fan-girl on him. Here, sign my panties, Bennett! Sign them while I’m wearing them!

  “Trust? You’re asking a lot, Bennett. A lot. If you want me to trust that your motives are on the level, you need to give me something—anything—as a sign of good faith.”

  Perhaps he’ll show me his erection.

  Nooo…You are so bad. We’re in public.

  He tilted his head. “Like what?”

  “Why did you do that bet?”

  He looked up at the sky exasperatedly for a moment before looking back at her again. “It’s complicated. But I promise I’ll explain when the time is right.”

  Right for who? Right for what? she wondered. But something about the way he’d said it made her want to give him the benefit of the doubt, like he was pleading with her for a little patience. Her heart nudged her to give it to him. I’m a huge sucker, aren’t I?