The Billionaire Bad Boy Plan

by Michelle Love

  Zoe rolled her eyes but flushed, flattered. She cast her eyes around the room, and Sam watched her expression carefully. She was being persuaded, he could tell.

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘Have a walk around, on your own. Take it in, see it how you’ve dreamed it.’

  They left Zoe in the operating theater and strolled through the abandoned hospital. After a while Sam nodded at his brother and Cal melted away, grinning. Isa turned to Sam confused, and smiling; he bent his head to kiss her.

  ‘I have something to show you.’

  He led her to the far end of the hospital, up a spiral staircase. He unlocked a heavy door and stepped back, allowed her to walk in.

  Isa gasped. ‘Wow…’

  It was a large room, exposed brick wall, huge windows. It looked relatively intact, a few broken panes of glass, but it was undoubtedly the best room she’d seen. Sam watched her face, her excitement.

  ‘There’s a fully functional bathroom off it, a kitchen area over there.’ He nodded to his left. ‘It’s a great place for the city, for your work at the college. I know you love your open plan apartment. This is just bigger. Big enough for two. Maybe later for three… or four.’ His voice was soft.

  Her heart thumping, she went to him. ‘What are you saying?’ But she knew. She knew, and it made tears spring into her eyes. He smiled and kissed her.

  ‘Live with me, my beautiful Isabel,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘Let’s start building our family here now…’

  She nodded furiously, not trusting herself to speak, the tears dropping down her flushed cheeks, and he grinned, gathering her up into his arms, kissing her tenderly. He swung her around in his arms making her shriek and laugh her joy.

  When they had calmed down some, she brushed her lips against his gently. ‘You know; we practically live together already.’

  He smiled. ‘I know but this would be our place. Yours and mine. Our toothbrushes in the bathroom cabinet, not in our pockets. And think of all the stuff we get to do…’

  She squinted at him, amused. ‘Oh yes?’

  ‘That’s right. For example, I get to do this.’ And he slid his hand down the front of her panties and caressed her. She gasped as he touched her, giggled.

  ‘Oh yes, because we never do this now…’

  Sam grinned. ‘And all the while, I get to tell you how sexy you are…’

  The pressure increased and Isa moaned.

  ‘…how beautiful you are…’ He kissed her as his fingers stroked her. He could feel how excited she was.

  ‘…how much I love you…’ He nuzzled her neck.

  Isa laughed, her breath coming in little gasps now. Sam bent his head and whispered into her ear.

  ‘Isa, Isa, Isa…’

  Sam smiled as she came, trembling and sighing his name. He bent his head and kissed her.

  She caught her breath and smiled at him, her face flushed, glowing. ‘God I love you, Samuel Levy.’

  ‘Yeah, how much?’ His eyes were playful, challenging. From a distance they heard voices. Isa grinned wickedly and stood on her tiptoes, her mouth at his ear.

  ‘Enough to let you fuck me right here, right now, against this brick wall, before the others get here.’

  He didn’t need to be told twice. He jerked her jeans and her panties down as she reached into his fly, pulling out his already hard cock. He picked her up, pressing her back against the wall as she guided him into her. It was a swift, hard, dirty fuck and as they heard Zoe and Cal approach, Sam slid his hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. She felt a rush of adrenalin at the violence of their love, the brutal way Sam rammed into her. Breathless and smiling, she bit into the hand over her mouth, making him laugh, shocked. Their orgasms hit them at the same time and, hurriedly uncoupling, tidied themselves up just as Zoe and Cal came into their room.

  Zoe didn’t notice a thing, but Cal shot his brother an amused look, mouthed something to him. Sam looked down and turned away, hurriedly zipping his fly. Isa swallowed a giggle. Zoe was smiling, and Isa knew that face.

  ‘You’ve fallen in love with it.’

  Zoe nodded. ‘I have. I can see it, Isa. But I mean what I said,’ she said sternly to Sam. ‘It’s a loan, okay?’

  Sam smiled but shook his head. ‘Look, we’ll have to come up with some sort of compromise, because me and Isa, well, we’re going to be living here so…’ He didn’t get to finish before Zoe shrieked with delight and threw her arms around them both. Sam and Isa exchanged an amused look.

  ‘Zoe, we’ll work out the details but since we’re all family here, let’s celebrate finding this place. That’s down to you, bro, so thanks.’ Sam clapped Cal, who was standing watching them, on the back.

  Zoe rolled her eyes but was beaming as they made their way out of the building.

  Isa smiled to herself. God, that fast and furious fuck was such a rush. She was continually amazed at what Sam brought out in her; a feral, primal need. She exchanged a look with Sam. What a way to christen their new home. Now, right now, she knew nothing could take this away from her, away from him. This was right, she knew it, with every fiber of her being.

  Her bubble of happiness didn’t last. Real life has to intrude, she thought, as she pulled a pile of paperwork onto her desk a few days later. She didn’t mind being here, being busy, helping out Sandy but Sam was in New York and, as a kid the day after Christmas, she felt deflated. Maybe I’m hormonal.

  She distracted herself by wading through the piles of work Sandy had sneaked into her in-tray. He appeared occasionally at the side of her desk, apologetically sliding cups of coffee, napkins with cookies piled on top of them. She smiled to herself. The work wasn’t hard, just annoyingly admin-y and un-art-like.

  Her phone rang mid-morning. A number she didn’t know. ‘Hello?’

  Nothing. She hung up and thought nothing of it. The work phone on her desk rang. Again, no-one answered. Annoyed, she slammed the phone down.

  A half hour later, Mireaux from reception called her. ‘There’s a woman down here, says she knows you and would like to come up. Says she knows you from the gallery. Casey Hamilton?’

  The name sounded vaguely familiar, but Isa didn’t remember her. ‘Send her up.’

  Why not? It might be one of Zoe’s friends. What could be the harm?

  She regretted that thought five minutes later when the red-headed woman who’d been so rude to her walked into the room. Shit. Isa’s face hardened.

  ‘How can I help you?’ Her tone was clipped, but the woman smiled. It was a friendly smile which softened the woman’s angular features.

  ‘I’m sorry to intrude but I read about your exhibition, about the fire in the local paper. I wanted to say how sorry I was.’ She looked around the art department. ‘The article mentioned you worked here, so I thought…’ She stopped and sighed. ‘Look, I know I wasn’t the politest, I mean, I know I was somewhat rude before. I wanted to apologize and offer my condolences.’

  She held out her hand, and Isa took it hesitantly. She had no idea why this woman would bother, but she seemed genuine enough.

  ‘I’m Casey Hamilton. I’m an artist too, and I know what it must have been like to lose your work like that. Devastating.’ Without being asked, she sat down in the chair opposite Isa’s.

  Casey Hamilton. Isa had heard of her; she had been the new wunderkind of the Seattle scene in the early 2000’s. She burned bright – and fast. Isa vaguely remembered something about drugs. She took a deep breath.

  ‘Look, it was nice of you to come but – ‘

  ‘Your work was extraordinary.’ Casey interrupted and Isa was astonished to see two spots of pink appear on her cheeks. ‘Exquisite. I admit, I was jealous. I’m not proud of how I behaved, really, I’m not. I’d like to get to know you.’

  Isa frowned. ‘Why?’

  Casey studied her for a long moment. ‘Because I think we have a lot in common. I haven’t picked up a paintbrush in years. Years. But when I saw your work, I was inspired. Gave me the kick in the
butt I needed.’

  Isa was taken aback, and her instincts were in turmoil. Casey nodded, reading her thoughts.

  ‘I don’t blame you for doubting me; my behavior before was so, ha, I’d like to say it was out of character but I’ve always been the envious type.’ Suddenly she reached over and took Isa’s hand, leaning forward, her expression earnest – and a little pleading. ‘I’m trying to change. Really. Look, I’m going to go now but would you consider having lunch with me next week?’

  ‘I, er…’

  Casey Hamilton pulled a business card from her pocket and gave it to her. ‘Think about it. Call me.’

  Isa let herself into her apartment and shut the door. She was still going over the bizarre meeting with Casey Hamilton in her head. The woman had appeared contrite, genuine, but Isa still didn’t know why she wanted to get to know her.

  Her head was pounding and the apartment too empty. She hated when Sam was away now, not because of the safety thing but because she missed his presence, his big body, his kiss and his company.

  She pulled out her cell phone and settled on the couch to call him. He answered straight away, and a warm ribbon of joy settled inside of her as she heard how happy he was to hear her.

  ‘Hey, beautiful girl.’

  ‘How’s NY?’

  ‘Too far from you. I’m coming back early tomorrow, as early as I can.’

  She chuckled. ‘I distract you from work.’

  ‘Hell yes, I wouldn’t have it any another way. Are you okay? Your voice is kinda weird.’

  ‘I have my head in a diving bell.’

  ‘Funny girl.’

  She smiled. ‘Just a headache. I’m going to order pizza, take a bath, grab an early night.’

  Sam groaned. ‘Ah, dammit, without me? That sounds like the perfect evening.’

  She laughed. ‘I mean grab an early night to sleep, dirty boy. Get my strength up for tomorrow.’

  She heard him laugh, a low, filthy sound. ‘And why would that be?’

  God, even over the phone he could turn her on. ‘Because of the mind-blowing, limb-jellifying fucking that we’ll be doing.’

  His laugh was louder this time. ‘Oh, that, of course.’

  She debated suggesting phone sex but her headache was beginning to make her vision fuzzy. ‘Baby… hurry home to me. I love you.’

  ‘I love you too, sweetheart. Goodnight, my Isabel.’

  He opened the door quietly, stepped into the apartment and listened. No sound. He’d seen her bedroom light go off an hour ago. He had taken his shoes off and left them in the car. He’d climbed the stairs, making sure to avoid the third from the top. He’d noticed it squeaked the first time he’d visited - when he’d watched them fuck for the first time. The night he first saw her, the night he decided to kill her.

  He moved silently through the room towards the screen that separated her bedroom from the rest of the apartment.

  He stood in the doorway and watched her. She didn’t stir, her long dark hair spread across the pillows. He noticed she slept on one side of the bed, rather than the middle. Moonlight was coming in from the window. He looked over and saw a small bottle sitting on the nightstand. Sleeping tablets. He smiled and stepped into the room. Walking round to the opposite side of the bed, he sat down. He touched the pocket where he kept the knife. If she woke and screamed… but she didn’t even stir when the bed moved. He reached and touched her hair, letting his fingers pull through the fine strands.

  He traced the curve of her cheek, her top lip, her eyelid. She didn’t wake. He shifted closer and lifted her head onto his lap so he could see her face. He brushed her hair back from her face with his palm. He traced a line from her neck down between her breasts. Pushing the duvet down, he ran his hand over her bare stomach, her thighs. Soft, soft skin. His breathing became ragged. He pulled the knife from his pocket and drew the tip over her skin, tracing from her throat, down to just below her left breast, over her heart. A few inches between life and death. He slid the tip over her stomach, letting the blade follow the curves and hollows of her skin until it dipped into her deep, round navel. His fist tightened on the handle. The temptation to drive it into her was overwhelming.

  Not yet… not yet…

  He squeezed his eyes shut, but when he opened them, he pulled the knife away from her. The tip of the sharp blade had nicked her skin, and a thin trail of blood dripped down her skin onto the bed. Shit. Stupid fucker, taking risks like that. Ruining everything.

  He froze when she tensed her shoulders up, her head shifting. She opened her eyes and gazed up at him, still mostly asleep, not really seeing him.

  ‘Are you going to kill me?’

  The question thrilled him, shocked him and delighted him. He stroked her face and smiled.

  ‘Yes.’ He replied, and she closed her eyes, sighed and was asleep again.

  He stroked her face one more time then bent down to kiss her soft, warm mouth.

  ‘Yes, my love,’ he whispered softly, ‘Yes, I’m going to kill you, my sweet, sweet Isabel…’

  Part #2 Hurt Me

  A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

  By Michelle Love

  Hurt Me

  The dream had Sam in its grip. They were in her apartment on her couch, Isa’s head on his chest, his fingers tangled in her hair. She was talking to him, smiling, loving. But the sound was all wrong, like a record being played backward.

  Then Isa was wrenched from his arms by an unknown force. Her head flew back, and she screamed, a heart-breaking noise of unimaginable pain. Her arms stretched out toward him, but he couldn’t reach her. Whatever had gotten hold of her drew her inexorably into a swirling mass of light. She disappeared. Sam leaped from the couch and found himself on a beach. The wind blew, and it sang its mournful song out of key.

  The sea was a tumult of rage, destruction; the waves broke high, almost as tall as Sam. Above the noise, he heard a whisper.

  ‘Sam.’

  Her voice. He turned. Isa was standing on an outcrop of rocks jutting out into the water. She faced the ocean, a long white robe making her seem ghostly, ethereal. Her long hair seemed darker, and it clouded around her head, black tendrils snaking down way past her waist. She was achingly beautiful.

  Sam started to run toward her, screaming her name. But the more he ran, the further she moved away.

  She held up a hand to halt him. A snapshot. A river of blood. He blinked and it had gone. She slowly turned to face him. Her eyes, the irises, the whites were entirely black. Her mouth was moving, silent words. He started toward her, and again the whisper carried itself to him.

  ‘You can’t save me, Sam.’

  ‘No, no! Isa!’ He watched in horror as a figure appeared behind her, locking its arm around her neck and raising a knife above its head. It plunged the blade into her.

  Sam screamed her name. Her face creased in pain, and she cried out, again that horrific sound of agony. At the center of the white dress, a spot appeared and grew larger.

  Blood. The figure stabbed her again.

  ‘No!’ Sam started to run to her, but it was as if he was running in treacle. The blood gushed from her in a torrent turning the ocean red. More snapshots. Angels. Stone angels. Trees. A ruined hospital. From behind him, Sam sensed a presence, but he did not want to take his eyes off her.

  As he watched in despair, Isa’s body was wracked with spasms. She couldn’t stop the blood, losing more than a human body could possibly hold. Somewhere in his subconscious, Sam registered this fact – he knew it was just a dream, but he couldn’t escape the crushing grief as he watched his love, his life, being so savagely and mercilessly slaughtered.

  He heard laughing behind him. Isa bent double, clutching at her ruined belly and when she stood, her eyes were normal – she was his Isa again. His heart broke when he saw the terror in her face. She gazed at him for a final time then her eyes fluttered shut, and her body dropped. Before she hit the rocks, a huge scarlet wave took her and threw her into the swirling
mass.

  ‘No!’ Sam found himself where she had been standing and as he watched, the water pitched and reeled her broken body in a grotesque dance. Sam knelt and tried to catch hold of her, but every time he tried, his fingers passed through her as if she were liquid.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw something move to his left. He looked up to see a man’s figure, immersed to the waist, wading toward him. Sam felt the desperate need to save her, even in death, from this man. He reached for Isa’s body only to jerk back. She was gone, replaced by a face. The face, inhuman, mocking, smiled at him.

  ‘She’ll never be safe.’

  Sam only just made it to the bathroom before he threw up. Rinsing his mouth, he grabbed his cell phone and booked the next flight back to Seattle.

  Seb decided against another drink and instead went out of the bar to get some air. The club was subdued tonight, he thought, but then realized it was probably just his mood. Since the attack on the gallery, he had been on edge, and with having to keep the secret of the death threat from his mom, he felt older than his young age. Outside the club, he had a view over the midnight waters of Elliott Bay and stared out morosely, watching the ferries move into the port, other pleasure boats scattered around. They looked so peaceful, he was almost envious.

  ‘Hey.’

  He turned and smiled. His friend, Louisa, had followed him out of the club. Tall and slim, Louisa was a rock chick; her platinum hair short and spiky, her large brown eyes ringed with kohl. She grinned at him and Seb felt the pull of desire he always felt near her. They’d flirted harmlessly throughout freshmen and sophomore years but now, they were growing closer and Seb hoped they could be more than friends.