Chasing Bad Boys 6_A Bad Boy Romance Series

by Kylie Parker

  “Here we go…

  Out of the corner of her eye, Isabelle saw a female figure, slowly walking towards the stage. Not more than 5’5” and quite thin, dressed in leather, and wearing knee-high, black boots. A roar of applause filled the arena; Alannah Myles was on stage. Of course, she looked a lot older than the 31-year old woman in the “Black Velvet” video but much less than 58 years old (her actual age). Her hair was a little shorter and straightened. One second before she reached the microphone stand in the middle, Isabelle heard a familiar, electric guitar introduction and rhythmic drumming: The opening song was “Still Got This Thing for You,” a song she had already heard five times that day. The young woman then leaned towards Kate on her right and yelled in her ear:

  “She looks fantastic!”

  Kate merely nodded, with a big smile on her face. Within seconds, Isabelle discovered that the 58-year old Canadian sounded exactly like she did back in the day. Her voice was crystal clear, deep and sexy. Soon, though, the three friends saw her musicians as well. One of them stood out; he was much taller, at least 6’6”. His black, electric guitar seemed to shine in the dim light. He wore a black cowboy hat, black sunglasses, and a dark-blue, suede, cowboy jacket with fringe, bone, and beads. It also featured two golden patches over the shoulders. Other than that, the tall guitarist wore faded black jeans and spurred boots. Less than a minute into the opening song, he and Alannah met in the middle of the stage. He seemed to tower over her. At some point, where he leaned a little towards her, some strands of hair got in his face. Alannah Myles’ guitarist had chin-long, blond hair. A few seconds before “Still Got This Thing for You”, he faced the crowd: His face was pointy, but also quite stiff.

  Thirty seconds and one drum loop later, Alannah Myles stopped in the middle of the stage and grabbed the microphone with her right hand:

  “Good evening, New York Cityyyyyyyyy!” Her loud, sexy voice filled the ears of more than 23,000 people, as she squinted at the crowd.

  “Boy, thanks a lot, I really needed that. Now…” She sucked in a deep breath.

  “I wanna play a little game with you. All I neeeed…” she yelled again.

  “Is a…broken heart…” Alannah whispered in a husky voice. Following the crowd’s cheers, she took a few steps closer to the front edge of the stage. She then seemed to scan the front rows.

  “You, in the denim skirt…” She used her right index finger to point at…Isabelle.

  “Make way for that pretty blonde, boys. Come on!” Alannah ordered two security guards, standing just right feet to the right of Isabelle.

  “Oh, my God! She wants me on stage…!

  The young woman was in a state of shock. Her new idol’s request sent her pulse rising. She was excited and embarrassed at the same time.

  “What are you waiting for, Izzy? Go!” Kate urged her, patting her on the right shoulder.

  “Yeah! Show ‘em how it’s done, baby! Woooo-hoooo!” Monica was ecstatic. She even raised her arms in the air and clapped. Isabelle hesitated for a second, but as soon as she saw the guards approaching her, she pushed the iron barrier with her left knee. The big man who had talked to Kate earlier took her by the right hand and led her to the left side of the stage where Isabelle found a small, wooden staircase.

  With every step she took toward Alannah, she got chills all over the body. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins. Isabelle walked past the guitarist and stopped, five feet behind Alannah, on her left.

  “Come here, sweetheart.” Alannah’s electrifying voice was hard to resist. Isabelle took three steps towards her.

  “What’s your name?” she asked, offering her the microphone.

  “Um…Isabelle.”

  “Isabelle? That’s a great name for a sweet girl like you…” Alannah smiled at her. Isabelle was too embarrassed to face her.

  “So…Do you really have a broken heart, Isabelle?” Alannah lowered her voice.

  “I…do.” Isabelle’s sweet voice was barely audible.

  “I know how to pick ‘em, don’t I?” Alannah then addressed the crowd. Some people laughed.

  “Baelfire…?” She looked at someone behind Isabelle. Before she knew it, Alannah’s guitarist covered Isabelle’s back with something. It felt soft and very smooth. Then, she witnessed the rest of the cloth, landing softly on her chest. Black velvet…

  “Shit! This can’t be happening! Oh, my God!

  Isabelle shut her eyes. In a split second, the acoustic guitar intro of the song that had haunted her the night before sent the entire stadium into a frenzy. She opened her eyes, sensing a hand on her right shoulder. It belonged to Alannah. Shivers went down her spine, as the Canadian rock star started one of her best performances in her long career. The tall guitarist was less than three feet away, to her left, looking down at his instrument with his knees bent, tapping his boots on the stage floor.

  “Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell…”

  As embarrassed as she was, Isabelle was determined to live that unique moment. It is not every day that a famous rock star invites you on stage. With Alannah’s sensual voice sending vibes throughout the Garden, Isabelle soon found herself swaying her hips from side to side, just like she had done the night before.

  “Ok, I’m not gonna put on a show this time…But hell, I’m gonna remember this for the rest of my life. I might as well not screw it up. God, Alannah, you sound so much better than I expected…

  Lost in the moment, Isabelle maintained eye contact with Alannah. She was so happy that she did not pay attention to the lyrics. Intoxicated with the atmosphere, she did not even look down at her two friends. Instead, she placed her hands on her hips and tried to follow the rhythm. A big smile was painted on her face; Isabelle could not believe her luck.

  Almost three minutes into the song, Alannah, with the microphone in her left hand, stepped in front of Isabelle and pointed at her with her right index finger, singing:

  Every word of every song that he sang was for you

  In a flash he was gone, it happened so soon, what could

  You do?

  The passion in her voice, as well as the tension on her face showed that Alannah believed every word coming out of her mouth. However, she could not suppress every memory of Dean. Isabelle swallowed hard; her smile was wiped off her face, but just for a few moments. It returned when Alannah winked at her.

  Soon enough, the song was over. A drum loop, followed by a round of applause, gave Isabelle the chance to bow in front of 23,000 people. Alannah wrapped her arms around her and gave Isabelle a sweet kiss on her left cheek.

  “Well done, girl. Couldn’t have done it better myself…” she yelled in her left ear.

  At that moment, though, Isabelle felt a little dizzy. She was not used to any of this, and the adrenaline was too much for her to handle. Alannah’s image blurred within seconds, and the crowd in the arena seemed to be fading, right before her eyes. With her heart rate slowing down, Isabelle’s world darkened; the only thing she could hear was Alannah’s voice, echoing in her ears.

  “Isabelle? Are you ok? Oh, no! Baelfire, catch her!”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Isabelle woke up in a very strange place indeed. Lying on a king-size bed, in what seemed to be a massive, u-shaped, dark room. Across the bed was a massive glass façade, which allowed a clear, unobstructed view of the New York City lights.

  “Mon? Kate? Where are you guys? Where am I?” Isabelle was scared. She had no idea what had transpired, and she could not remember anything she had been through.

  “Izzy? Izzy, thank God!” She heard Kate’s voice. Isabelle’s friend pressed a light switch on the wall behind the bed, on her left. A large chandelier in the middle of the room, lit up the place. It was completely empty; the oaken floor was the only thing Isabelle could see, other than a wall on her left.

  “Kate? Kate, what happened? Where’s Monica? Where are we?” Isabelle’s fear was growing.

  “Everything’s gonna be alright, baby.
” Kate leaned towards Isabelle and laid a soft kiss on her forehead. Then, she pulled a piece of paper out of her right pocket and handed it to Isabelle.

  “Why don’t you read that? I’m sure you’ll find it…interesting. I know I did.” Kate winked at Isabelle.

  “What’s in it?”

  “Let’s just say there’s no cousin in California, Izzy…” Monica’s voice resounded in the room as she emerged from the wall on Isabelle’s left.

  “Kate, come here. We’re ready…” she added.

  “What?!” Isabelle exclaimed.

  “What are you talking about?” she went on.

  “Izzy…You can thank us later.” Monica’s enigmatic tone only added to Isabelle’s curiosity. Kate walked slowly towards Monica.

  “Hey! Get back here! Thank you? For what?” Isabelle yelled. She had to read the piece of paper on her lap. The young woman leaned against the dark-brown, wooden bedside, picked it up with her right hand and brought it closer to her face.

  “Marshall’s Artificial Intelligence – Press Release

  The ‘Fly-Safe-Seven’ project has been officially terminated. Due to massive public outcry, this software can and should not be used on any modern-day aircraft. No human being should trust a machine with his or her life. The destruction of every computer hard drive used in the process has been ordered and will be carried out immediately.

  Dean Marshall

  CEO”

  At first, Isabelle was in disbelief. She also wondered how that piece of paper had ended up in Kate’s hands. Just when she finished reading it, though, the lights went out again. Footsteps were heard on the oaken floor. Whoever was in that room with her had to be barefoot. The sound they made was quite faint.

  “Who’s there?” she yelled, but got no answer. A large figure blocked her view of the city lights and slowly approached her from the left. The stranger then leaned towards Isabelle and flicked a lighter, barely two inches across from her face.

  “Huh! B…Baelfire?” she whispered, pulling the white sheets with both hands, bringing them to her chest.

  “Hmmm…” The stranger smirked.

  “Baelfire Isaacs…aka…Dean Marshall.” With a clap of his hands, the lights were back on. Isabelle was dumbfounded. There he was, in that cowboy outfit. The only thing missing was his black spur boots. Her jaw dropped when she saw Dean, with his hands on his waist, smiling down at her. He took his black sunglasses off and his hat and tossed them onto the bed.

  “Dean?! Dean, what the hell are you doing here?” Isabelle’s heart was pounding in her chest.

  “Is that all you got to say…Izzy? We’re in my penthouse, in Soho.” He sounded ironic.

  “What…wh…I don’t get it. Wh…”

  “Well, let me explain. Damn, I never thought I’d call you ‘Izzy.' It’s got a nice ring to it, though. I don’t need to remind you what happened after you went to the press with that story. Let’s just say that I had second thoughts about the project after you left me. I didn’t wanna lose you, Isabelle. My uncle died because of that…thing. I know I made him a promise. But, the use of FS-7 won’t bring him back…” Dean sighed, upon finishing his sentence.

  “Dean…I don’t even know where to start. Why are you dressed like that? I mean, you’re in music now? Blond hair? Performing live? Really?” She squinted at him.

  “I thought you’d have figured it out by now, Isabelle…” Dean sat on the bottom left side of the bed, smiling at her.

  “First of all, Kate’s ex-had nothing to do with it. I realized I had to do something to win you back. I called her, said I was sorry about my…you know. Then, I told her my plan. By the way, Alannah’s a friend of the family. Great singer, great woman. She loved my idea, just like Kate did. First, she had to talk to…Monica.” Getting her to listen to some retro music was easy.” Dean then arose to his impressive, 6’4” stature and went over to the other side of the bed. He finally sat on his knees, on Isabelle’s right. She had the chance to stare at his stone-blue eyes, the ones she had so much missed.

  “It took you a while to finally hear something you’d love so much. “Black Velvet” is a beautiful song, like hundreds of others in the eighties. Oh, remember that club you went to with your friends yesterday? It’s mine. I’m sorry if I made you cry, Isabelle. I never meant to hurt you…” Leaning towards her, Dean extended his right arm; his right hand landed on Isabelle’s cheek.

  “My God, those hands…I’ve missed ‘em so much….

  Dean ran his thumb across her cheekbone twice, before he lowered his voice:

  “I did all this for you, my sweet Isabelle. I know; it was a wild plan, but there are a million ways to say ‘I love you.'” He paused and lowered his eyes. Dean then went on to bite his lower lip.

  “That’s just one…” he whispered. His hand on Isabelle’s cheek began to tremble. Dean Marshall was about to burst into tears. Isabelle raised her left hand and placed it on his wrist.

  “My God, Dean…I…”

  “Shhh…” Dean interrupted her.

  “No more words...” Dean sighed once more, squeezing a tear out of his right eye.

  “Oh, Dean…” Isabelle had whispered before she put her right hand on Dean’s collar. She pulled him closer to her and then, she placed both hands on his cheeks. Barely an inch away from each other, feeling his hot breath on her chin, she caressed his face.

  “For me?” she whispered. Dean closed his eyes and squeezed a tear out of his left eye. He would not speak; he just nodded. Isabelle closed her eyes as well. A tear rolled down her right cheek. She angled her lips for a kiss and pulled his face closer to hers.

  In a second, their lips locked in a long, tender kiss. Isabelle would not take her hands off his face. She kept caressing and stroking his cheeks, sensing the warmth of his hot breath on her face. Dean laid a soft kiss on her upper lip and wrapped his arms around her back.

  “Isabelle…” he sighed and gently pushed her back. At that moment, he looked down at himself.

  “I gotta get out of these…clothes,” he scoffed. Isabelle could not help but laugh, briefly.

  “Yeah, you probably do…” she remarked.

  “Look, I need to take a shower. Don’t go anywhere, ok?” he asked.

  “Ok…” Isabelle gave him a sweet smile and watched him walk away towards a large, light-brown door on the right side of the room.

  She took a moment to think about everything, from start to finish. Isabelle could not believe the great lengths he had gone to in order to win her back. If anything, Dean had once again proved his resourcefulness and his determination. His plan was incredibly elaborate and had involved her friend, Kate. It did remind her of what he had done to seduce her in a way, but this was much more sophisticated.

  The young woman was flattered. Whatever he had done in the past, this was proof of love; something every woman in this world needs. Not only did she feel special, but she also felt incredibly aroused. A thoughtful man like him should always be rewarded. Isabelle had never, ever wanted him more. She kicked the sheets away from her and picked up a familiar sound: Somehow, Dean was listening to his favorite Enigma songs in the bathroom.

  “I don’t know how tired you are, Mr. Marshall. All I know is that I haven’t been with a man in months, and I love you. It’s time to thank you, my big brute…

  Determined to seduce him in the bathroom, Isabelle quickly got rid of her clothes. Her heart was racing; she was about to feel his strong body against hers. The very memory of their times in bed was enough to turn her on, even after their breakup.

  Less than ten seconds later, she found herself pushing the partially-open brown door. Isabelle stepped into a very big and quite dark bathroom indeed. Four candles in silver candlesticks were in each corner. It featured a glass façade on the left, with a great view of New York City, just like his bedroom. The floor was tiled; it felt cold under her feet. In the middle of the room, next to a sink and a big mirror, was a white bathtub that could probably fit three people. Wit
h the sound of Enigma’s “Mea Culpa” ringing in her ears, Isabelle slowly walked towards the bathtub. By looking down at it, she realized that it was more than half-full of frothy water. The wonderful scent of essential oils filled her nostrils, as she raised her left leg to knee height. Dean was lying in the bathtub with his eyes closed, apparently trying to relax.

  As soon as Isabelle’s foot touched the water, though, Dean jolted up. He had no idea what she had been up to.

  “Hey! What are y…”

  “Shhhh…” Isabelle brought her right index finger closer to her face and stopped it right in front of her nose. The bathtub was more than seven feet wide, perfect for what she had in mind. Of course, the oral action was next to impossible, but Isabelle was already too aroused to even consider giving him a blowjob. So, she put her hands on the bathtub floor to support her weight. On all fours, she soon felt his leg brushing against her left forearm. Dean had a crooked smile on his face.

  Then, Isabelle looked down at his rock-hard abs. She leaned forward and laid a soft kiss on his belly button. She stuck her tongue out and ran it up and down his abdomen. With a sensual kiss on the right side of his ribcage, Isabelle tried to arouse him. It worked. She sensed his big, left hand on her right cheek and looked up at him.

  After giving him a lustful look, Isabelle’s lips made their way up, towards his broad chest. His wet, strong body was shining in the pale, candlelight. With three, sloppy kisses on his pecks, Isabelle pressed her body against him, feeling his large cock on her stomach. Dean was not fully erect just yet, but his cock felt wonderfully wet. A gentle kiss on his chin followed before their lips locked again in a more demanding and passionate kiss…

  Isabelle’s C cups were pressing against Dean’s chest. Within seconds, his big, strong hands were caressing her back. Every now and then, he would dig his short nails into her flesh. Soft sighs of pleasure were escaping her. Isabelle’s blonde hair was dripping down his face. Five minutes into their kiss, Isabelle pushed him back, gently.

  Their gazes locked for several seconds. It was at that moment that Isabelle realized just how happy and relieved Dean was. He looked peaceful and tranquil as if he did not care about anything else in this world other than her.