The Billionaire Bad Boy Plan

by Michelle Love

  She pressed her lips to his skin. ‘I hate this.’

  ‘I know.’

  She was quiet for a time then raised her head to look at him.

  ‘What if we draw him out?’

  ‘How do you mean?

  ‘Instead of locking me up in my ivory tower, I get out there, in the world, places he could get to me. If he wants to stab me then, he’s gotta get close to do it. We have the advantage; we know who – me, we know how he wants to kill me…’ and she mimed being stabbed, and Sam blanched, catching her hands to stop the action. He couldn’t bear to think about her like that, the life in her eyes going out. No. No.

  ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

  She sat up, her face alive with her idea. ‘I could wear a stab vest. We could set it up with Halsey…’

  ‘Are you fucking crazy? No way, no fucking way!’ Sam was livid. He pushed her away and stood up, running his hand through his hair, angrier than she’d ever seen him. Isa wasn’t ready to give up on the idea, though.

  ‘No, listen…’

  ‘What don’t you get? He wants to kill you. End of story. You want to put yourself into his…Jesus.’ He choked and turned away so she couldn’t see his face. She watched him breathing deeply trying to calm down.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice was small. He turned and crouched down in front of her. He pulled her forward so he could rest his forehead on hers.

  ‘Don’t ever, ever say anything like that to me again. Promise me.’

  ‘I promise.’

  He sighed and closed his eyes. She kissed him gently. He smiled.

  ‘I just hate feeling helpless,’ she said. ‘I feel like I’m just waiting around for him to k…waiting to die.’

  Sam let out a shaky breath. ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Okay.’ A whisper. ‘I’m just so sick of him shrinking my world. Who the fuck does he think he is?’ Her voice rose with the force of her anger and Sam pulled her into his arms.

  ‘I get it, I do. But nothing will convince me the best way to catch him is to put you in harm’s way. Nothing. If I have to take you to the island for months, I will.’

  She tried to smile. ‘Do I get a say?’

  He raised his hands warily. ‘I don’t want to fight.’

  She leaned over to kiss him. ‘The next time we go the island I want it to be for something happy.’

  He trailed the back of his fingers down her cheek. ‘Like…our honeymoon?’

  He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she smiled and nodded. ‘Like that.’

  He slid both hands on either side of her face. His big palms dwarfed her tiny features, and she leaned into his touch. His chest hurt with his love for her. ‘That question is getting closer.’

  She pressed her lips against his. ‘My answer is, too.’

  ‘Real close.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Really?’ He studied her expressions, looked for any sign of hesitation in her eyes and found none.

  ‘Really.’

  He suddenly flipped her onto her back making her shriek with laughter.

  ‘I’m gonna have to perform a strip search now.’

  She giggled, and he hooked a finger under the top of her t-shirt and peeked down it.

  ‘Damn, woman, you all sorts of naked under here.’ He said with a wicked grin, and as he pulled the t-shirt over her head, he wondered if they could overcome everything and ever get to that island, with Isa as his wife and the danger behind them.

  He hoped like hell they could.

  For a week, then two, then three, there was nothing. No more phone calls, no more bodies, no more threats.

  Sam wasn’t fooled. There was no minute that someone wasn’t with Isa. If he couldn’t be there – and those moments were rare – then Zoe, Seb or Cal were on call. Sam knew Isa was frustrated with the situation, but he didn’t care. He wanted her safe.

  She was waiting for him in the hotel room which had become their temporary home when he came home after meeting with Halsey again. He was irritable, tired, and resentful – none of which was made better by the fact that Isa appeared to be alone when he got to the room.

  ‘Where the fuck is Seb?’ He snapped before she could say hello to him. She shut her mouth and said nothing, her face pinched and shocked at his temper.

  ‘Here, dude.’ Seb stepped from the bathroom behind him and clapped him on the shoulder. He grinned at his sister and sat down in one of the easy chairs. ‘Figured Isa wouldn’t want to see me pee.’

  Sam let out a breath, suddenly ashamed. ‘Sorry, man. Bad day.’ He looked at Isa, saw the hurt in her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to snap.’ He walked to her and wrapped his arms around her, was gratified when he felt her gentle kiss on his cheek.

  ‘That’s my cue before you two get mushy. Later, dude.’ Seb grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. Sam nodded at him.

  ‘Thanks again, buddy – and sorry, again.’

  Seb grinned, leaned over to kiss his sister on the cheek. ‘Forget it, man. Later – stay safe.’

  When the door closed, Sam double-locked it and stripped off his jacket, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing his face. Isa slipped her hands over his shoulders, her fingers kneading the rock-hard muscles. He leaned back into her touch.

  ‘Feels so good…’

  Her lips found his temple and he reached around to pull her onto his lap. Neither spoke, just gazed at the other for a long moment. They were still here, still breathing. Sam slid his hand onto the nape of her neck, his fingers bunching the hair there into his fist. Her lips were cool and soft against his, tasting, caressing, with her tongue moving against his slowly. The kiss deepened, Sam crushing his mouth against hers, hungry for her. Without breaking the kiss, he pushed her back onto the bed, reached under her skirt as she unzipped his fly and took his cock in her hands. His fingers slipped under her panties, stroked the wet warmth of her, the silky-smooth skin, the peachy folds of her sex. His cock was stiff and pulsing, ready for her and he pushed her panties to one side and slid into her. Her mouth still on his, he heard her soft moan, and he began to move in and out of her, his hips rocking with hers, her thighs clinging to his waist.

  It was a strange kind of lovemaking – neither said a word, letting their bodies say everything they need to.

  Afterward, Sam took a shower while Isa ordered room service. They ate then Isa with her eyes wary, handed him the newspaper. It was folded onto a page in the Arts section. Sam ran his eyes over the piece and hissed. Casey. Again. More bullshit about Isa’s work being plagiarized from her own. Sam looked up at her, and she jerked her chin at the paper.

  ‘Keep reading.’

  The piece continued and now Sam saw that the writer had reached out to one of Seattle’s most prominent art critics, Paul Carter who defended Isa, telling the writer that Ms. Hamilton was known for being ‘unstable’ and that he, Paul Carter, had been at the gallery the night that Isa had shown her work. His praise of Isa and dismissal of Casey, Sam knew would hold great weight in the local art community – not that he’d ever doubted Casey’s claims would come to nothing. He felt a jolt of gratitude to the critic – who he’d clashed with frequently in the past. The man was arrogant, narcissistic and bombastic, but he knew his stuff. Sam read on, noting that Carter while discussing Isa’s work, didn’t fail to comment on her personally; her looks, her body, and her personality.

  Sam glanced at her, and she nodded. ‘Bit creepy towards the end there, huh?’

  ‘You could say that… I do know Carter, though, and this is just like him. He’s a sleaze, but it’s a good piece if you can overlook the blatant lust.’ Sam smiled for the first time that night, seeing Isa roll her eyes. ‘Look at it this way, saves us from getting directly involved with Casey.’

  Isa let out a long breath and gave him a small smile. ‘I guess. I think I’m hypersensitive to anyone’s personal scrutiny at the moment.’

  Sam cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘Anyone?’


  She grinned. ‘Present company accepted. Anyway…’ She sat down on the bed next to him. ‘I really need to get out of this room, Sam. Stir crazy doesn’t even begin to cover it. I called Sandy today.’

  Sam brushed her hair away from her face. He didn’t like the idea of her being out in the world, but he knew it wasn’t fair to her. However so much as he loved her, it was her decision.

  ‘You want to go back to work?’

  She nodded, her eyes searching his. ‘I really do.’

  ‘I think it’s a great idea.’ He was already planning the security measures he would set up, and she grinned, reading his mind.

  ‘Whatever you need to do, big guy, is fine with me. But the fact is, I won’t let the asshole shrink my world anymore.’

  He gazed at her – his beautiful, angry, sweet, fierce, vulnerable Isabel - and for the millionth time wondered how he could ever have lived without her.

  ‘I’m behind you one-hundred percent sweetheart. Maybe there’s something you could do for me first, though?’

  ‘What’s that?’

  Sam tilted her face up to his and kissed her gently, trailing his tongue along the seam of her bottom lip. ‘Isabel Eleanor Flynn?’

  She smiled ‘Yes?’

  ‘Marry me?’

  Her smile widened and tears sprung up, dropping down her cheeks. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Yes?’

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down onto the bed, winding her legs around him and he laughed as she yelled happily. ‘Hell, yes. Fuck, yes. Yes, yes, yes…’

  Louisa balanced her chin on Seb’s shoulder as he flipped some pancakes from the pan to a plate. ‘You’re distracting me,’ he grumbled but laughed, turning his head to kiss her. They were in his new apartment, the one he shared with Cal. Lou’s eyes had widened when he had brought her back here last night for the first time since he moved in, and now she took in the large, expensively furnished apartment.

  ‘Nice space,’ she said, peering out of the window of the kitchen down to the street, a long way below them. ‘Must be nice having a sugar daddy, eh?’

  She grinned at Seb who chuckled. ‘You don’t know what I have to do to keep him happy,’ he sighed dramatically. Lou half-smiled and Seb raised an eyebrow at her. ‘’Sup?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Lou?’

  She sighed. ‘It’s just… look at this place. Doesn’t it seem odd to you that Cal would offer to do this for you?’

  Seb shrugged. ‘We’re practically family.’

  ‘Yeah, but are you?’

  Seb looked confused. ‘I don’t follow.’

  Lou hoisted herself up onto the counter. ‘Look at this place. I mean, if my brother was dating a rich guy, and the rich guy’s sister said to me, hey, come live with me in my mansion…’

  Seb grinned. ‘Cal and I are friends too, Lou, you know? Anyways, if it weren’t for the fire at our gallery, I’d still be there. He’s just being a friend. I thought you liked him when we went out that night?’

  ‘He’s okay. Bit of a player, if you ask me.’

  Seb shrugged, not phased at all by her judgment. ‘He’s a good-looking young guy, let him have his fun.’

  ‘Okay, Grandpa.’ She leaned over to kiss him. ‘Just, you know, keep your guard up.’

  Mrs. Levy. Mrs. Levy. Isa grinned to herself. She would have to get used to the name. It had been a week since Sam had proposed and, despite her jokingly giving him an out the next morning, he merely grinned and got down on one knee and repeated his proposal. She was giggling as he went on, his eyes sparkling wickedly.

  ‘I do feel this re-proposal is necessary because I need to convince you I am sincere, and not just in the thrall of your - admittedly magical - vagina.’

  She burst out laughing and tugged him to his feet. ‘You loon.’ He kissed her fiercely then rested his forehead against hers.

  ‘Thank you.’ The love in his voice had made her cry all over again. Isa had never coveted a wedding ring, the picket fence, anything. But, God, she wanted to marry this man, this wonderful, elegant, silly, sexy-as-all-get-out man. What she didn’t want, however, was a huge wedding and she made that her one condition. To her relief, he agreed immediately.

  ‘I’m thinking you, me, Zoe, Seb and Cal at City Hall.’ He said, raising an eyebrow at her. She gave him the finger-pistols, and he laughed.

  Now, though, she had to break the news to Zoe that the wedding wasn’t going to be a meringue-fest. Sam dropped her off at the old hospital where Zoe was overseeing the renovation. It seemed an age since Isa had been there and now she gasped at the changes. All the filth, the junk had been cleared, the walls re-plastered and painted a gleaming white. Enough of the old building’s original features had been kept to retain the sense of history, but Isa could tell already – the gallery would be beautiful.

  Zoe studied her as she looked around. ‘Of course, this is only the beginning. The rest of the hospital will be off bounds until we clear it but we might, and I mean might be able to open this part soon. Ish.’

  Isa smiled. ‘Wow. Good project managing, Ma, I’d go congratulate the contractors, but clearly, they’ll be too terrified to down tools for even a second. You go the full Tiger Mom on them?’

  ‘Enough sass from you,’ but Zoe chuckled. ‘Glad you like it, though, yours will be the first work exhibited here.’

  Isa rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t you want a proper artist to show here first?’

  ‘Well, that’s what I said but Sam…’ Zoe ducked out of the way of her playful swipe.

  Isa took a deep breath in then. ‘Speaking of Sam. How’d you feel about hanging out with me and him… and Seb and Cal at City Hall a week from Monday?’

  Zoe frowned. ‘Huh?’

  Isa rolled her eyes again and waited. Finally, Zoe caught on, her mouth opening in a perfect ‘O’. ‘Really?’

  Isa grinned. ‘Really.’

  Zoe shrieked and hugged her de facto daughter. ‘Oh honey, I’m so happy for you.’

  Isa hugged her back, relieved she’d got that out of the way. ‘Thank you. For everything, Zoe. Everything.’

  Zoe mopped her streaming eyes. ‘If it were anyone else I’d say it was too fast but you and Sam… anyone can see you were meant for each other. Oh,’ she sat down, her hand on her chest. ‘Some good news at last.’

  Isa perches on a pile of wooden pallets next to her and nodded. ‘What a few months, hey?’

  They were both silent for a while. Zoe took Isa’s hand in hers. ‘This is a sign, y’know? Everything’s going to get better now.’

  Isa smiled at her friend, saw the hope in her eyes and silently prayed she was right.

  He had given them time now, time enough to pretend he didn’t exist, time to pretend the threat was gone. Of course, they had no idea how near he had been all the time, how close he had been. The time was coming, it was near. She would die soon and finally, finally, he would feel her blood on his hands, his knife. It made him hard just to think of it. Levy wouldn’t know what hit him. He had seen the measures Sam had taken to protect her – laughable. The idiot thought throwing money around would keep her safe. As if anything could.

  He sat in the small apartment he had rented across the street from their hotel room. Their arrogance in thinking that any part of their lives was private was secure from his scrutiny. He knew where she was at any time. He knew what she was doing. He could see when they were eating when they were fucking. God, she looked so beautiful when she came; he’d jerked off to the memory of it often. If it didn't leave too much evidence, he would like to fuck her before he could killed her but it was too risky.

  He glanced over to their window now. It was early in the evening and the lamps went on as he watched and he could see her moving around. She came to the window and looked out, seemed to look right at him. Her relaxed manner told him that wasn’t possible, though, and he watched Sam slide his arms around her waist, press his lips down onto her shoulder. Sam slid the thin spaghetti str
ap of her dress from her shoulder; Isa bent her head so he could trail his lips along the slender shoulder to her neck.

  The watcher drew in a sharp breath as her dress fell from her shoulders and he caught a glimpse of her full breasts, the smooth curve of her belly before she turned to kiss Sam on the mouth and he pulled her out of view.

  Christ. His dick was pressing painfully against his pants. He yanked his fly down and reached in, his hand fisting around the shaft, his breath coming in short grunts as he jerked off. He imagined his mouth on her tits, sucking hard at those dark red nipples, hearing her scream, not with pleasure but in agony as he drove his knife into her again and again. He came hard and fast, with the cum shooting from him in thick white gobs, spattering his pants. His vision was fuzzy as he came down from the high and he closed his eyes, pretending the sticky, viscous fluid was her blood, that he was covered in the rust-and-salt scent of it and that she lay in his arms, her lovely dark eyes open but unseeing, and her beautiful body limp.

  He opened his eyes and stared unseeing out of the window. Let them make love. Let them be happy. It would make for a deeper horror when he finally struck when he took Isa from Sam in the worst way.

  Soon, my darling. Soon.

  Less than forty feet away from the man who planned to kill her, Isa Flynn was more happily occupied. Astride her man, her Sam, she straddled him, moving her hips slowly, gliding down the length of his diamond-hard cock. She smiled lazily at him, and he grinned, capturing her hands in his, linking their fingers. She felt him swell and grow bigger inside of her and she grinned, squeezing her muscles and making him moan.

  ‘Jesus, Isa…’

  She leaned down to brush her lips against his. ‘What do you want me to do to you, Mr. Levy?’

  He cradled her face in his big hands. ‘Anything you want, Isabel, I’m yours.’