Knocked Up by the Bad Boy

by Waltz, Vanessa

  “Are you saying that I look nice?”

  “I’m saying that I’d like to fuck you.”

  For a moment her eyebrows lift in surprise, but then her chest shakes with laughter, her light-brown hair hanging in front of her face.

  I fucking want her.

  “Is that your opening line with all women, or do I get the special treatment?”

  “You get the special treatment.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because you’re wearing that dress, sweetheart.”

  Her face burns a light shade of pink. “I borrowed it from my cousin.”

  “You look hot.”

  “It’s not my size.”

  I smile as she fiddles with her empty drink, watching how her pupils dilate as I lean in closer. “I’ll let you in on a little secret: guys don’t give a shit what the dress looks like. We care about how you look in the dress.”

  Hunger blazes in those dark-brown pools even as she withdraws her hand from my knee. “Can you actually use that cock of yours? Or is this alpha-male posturing compensation for something else?”

  “You have some balls to insult me in my own bar.”

  “It’s an honest question.”

  She does not know who the fuck I am.

  “You must not be familiar with my reputation.”

  “How am I supposed to when I don’t even know your fucking name?”

  This could be interesting.

  “I’m Johnny.”

  She uncrosses her legs as she gives me a scorching look, and I’m tempted to grab her thigh just to make my cock shut up.

  “Maya.”

  Beautiful name. Exotic.

  I grasp the strands of hair around her face and slowly push them across her soft skin, tucking them behind her ears. A barely suppressed shiver runs through her body as I take my hand away.

  She wants me.

  “You should come home with me, Maya.”

  An unspoken need simmers just beneath the surface of her skin. She trembles as if she waits for me to touch her again, but her voice strengthens. “At least buy me a fucking drink.”

  I almost laugh at the hostility in her tone, but she’s right. My manners flew out the goddamn window the moment I laid eyes on her.

  I signal the bartender for another drink, but Genevieve lets a glass fly from her grip when I catch her gaze. The glass shatters on the floor at my feet and causes a small commotion—a couple raised voices and a smattering of applause. She looks at the broken pieces and then at me, her cheeks burning.

  It’s a fucking glass. Who cares?

  Jesus.

  “Clean it up.”

  Red-faced, Genevieve nods and steps around the bar, apologizing profusely.

  For the life of me, I don’t understand why people think I’m going to shoot them in the face for an accident. Maya’s hand touches my knee again, and it’s like a lure for my cock. Jesus Christ control yourself. She looks at my with a flirty, little smile.

  “Everyone acts like you’re some kind of tough guy.”

  I am a tough guy.

  The bartender sweeps the pieces of glass into a dustpan, the crinkling sound distracting me.

  “What gave you that idea?”

  “That bartender looks like she’s going to cry.”

  Maya raises an eyebrow at her. The bartender hurries into the employees-only area even though there’s a trash can right behind the bar. Maya gives me an accusatory stare, and then I’m struck with the fact that she really, really doesn’t know who I am. She just thinks I’m some run-of-the-mill asshole hitting on her in a connected bar. Fuck, she might not even know it’s connected.

  Jackpot.

  “So you own the bar?”

  It’s rare to bump into someone who doesn’t know who I am, especially at places that I own. I search her eyes for any hint of sarcasm, but I don’t see anything but polite curiosity. There’s no point in enlightening her, so I decide to keep her in the dark.

  “Yeah,” I say with laughter in my voice. “I’m the owner.”

  It’s more like I own the entire city.

  Maya takes the drink from the other bartender, sipping it. She swivels in the chair, her legs bumping into mine. Fuck. She’s a fucking tease. To prove my point, she crosses her legs, exposing another mile of skin.

  “What’s it like owning a bar?”

  What is it like?

  “Ah—you know. I sit around and bullshit with customers. Hit on beautiful girls. It’s not bad.”

  “Yeah?” She grins. “Are you on the clock right now?”

  “We can leave anytime you want.”

  “Always with the sex.” Although she hardly looks offended. The way she keeps eyeing my cock, it’s as though she’s screaming for me to fuck her.

  “It’s taking everything inside me not to throw you over my shoulder and bring you into my office.”

  She sucks in air, the sound sharp. “And then what?”

  I’ll tell you and then what.

  I lay my hand right over her knee, and she doesn’t move a muscle, but a red flush fills the skin right above the swell of her tits. We’re so close that I can smell the perfume she wears. It’s light and refreshing, like spring flowers. I want that smell all over my sheets, clinging to my naked skin. Her legs part ever so slightly as I knead her skin.

  “And then I’d bend you over my desk and fuck your tight cunt until you came all over my cock. I’d take you home and shove my tongue deep inside that pussy until you moaned loud enough to wake up the neighbors.”

  Maya can’t look away from me. Her gaze lingers on my mouth, my body, and the hand touching her knee. “You really know how to talk to a girl, huh?”

  “That’s how I talk to girls who dress like that. I’m sorry, did you not come to this bar looking for a good time?”

  I squeeze her knee again and she makes another small gasp. A series of emotions cycle through her face. She’s offended, scared, turned-on. Christ, the innocent act gets a rise out of me. The more she reacts, the more I want to push her. Fuck, I just want to shove my hand all the way inside her dress and feel how soaking she is.

  “I am having a good time.”

  Fucking tease.

  I’m surprised that I’m enjoying this. When’s the last time I flirted with a girl? It’s usually very cut-and-dried. I take their hand, give them a look, and they’re mine for the night. Low effort. There’s a part of me that really gets off on that, but I like this even more.

  Her skin glows like a heat lamp. I inch up her thigh and knead her with my thumb. The sounds she makes cut the air between us, and then finally she takes my hand off her thigh. She turns it over and runs her fingers on my calluses. It’s not as though she’s touching my dick, but it’s intimate. The space between us feels comfortably warm and the sound from the bar disappears to a low murmur. She smiles at me, and my heart pounds hard, making my chest jump.

  Good God, I want to fuck her.

  “What’s your story?”

  “I’m just a girl at a bar.”

  She squeezes my hand and I twist it around so that I’m covering her. The relentless beating against my chest slows down, and then I think about filling my hands with her tits and it starts up again.

  “Everybody’s got a story.”

  “You don’t want to know mine.”

  “As long as it ends with you in my bed, I’m okay with it.”

  I wish I could drag her off her stool and onto my lap.

  Her head turns toward the door, which seems a million miles away from us. She doesn’t say a word, but I know what she’s thinking: I should leave.

  “Stay. Have a drink and talk to me.”

  Something in my voice reels her back in. Her eyes lock with mine. Heat builds up in my chest.

  “You don’t want to talk to me.”

  I want to fuck you.

  “Yes, I do.”

  She pulls her lips into a smirk.

  “There are just other things I’d rather be
doing with you. To you.”

  “Shit.” She seizes her drink and sips as if to give herself a reason to avoid looking at me.

  I won’t let her.

  I stand up from my stool and get close enough so that I can slide my hand over the back of her chair, my fingers tickling her arm. She takes a huge gulp of her drink and a bright flush fills her cheeks as the booze works its way through her veins, or maybe it’s the fact that she finds me irresistible. She takes my tie in her hand, starting at the knot at my throat. Then she slides slowly down the long length. What would it feel like to have her hands do the same thing to my cock?

  “I shouldn’t.”

  My finger glides under her jaw and she follows the pressure without even thinking. Her nerves are all over the place. A strong heartbeat jumps into my fingers, and it surprises me for a moment. This is a girl who looks like she’s down to fuck, as if she does it all the time, but she shakes in my hands.

  “You really, really should.”

  “Do you always get what you want?”

  “Almost always.”

  I reach around her head and tighten my fist in her hair. My lips crash against hers right before she whispers, “Fuck.” She sighs into my mouth and leans into me, her hands gripping my waist. Then her tits crush against my chest, and my cock strains against my slacks as if it’s about to bore a hole into the fabric.

  Sweetness swirls in my mouth, like the drink I gave her. Her tongue is even sweeter, and yes, I’m shoving my tongue down her throat in the middle of this bar. I don’t give a fuck. It’s instant chemistry between us. A surge of heat straight to my cock makes me curl my fingers in her hair. Fuck, I could sweep my arm across a table and bend her over right now.

  Her hands push my chest suddenly, and I break away from her briefly to see red, parted lips.

  “You all right, hon?”

  “Y-yeah.”

  “Then let’s continue this in my office.”

  “No, I can’t. I need to go.”

  Sounds like bullshit.

  She takes a step back and suddenly her eyes go wide as her huge heel slips on something, and then she falls to the ground before I can catch her. Her cry of pain makes me stoop down quickly.

  Oh Jesus Christ.

  My guys wheel around, offering to help her up, but I bend down and grab her skinny arm. She gets up painfully, and that’s when I notice a shard of glass sticking out of her knee.

  “What the fuck, Genevieve!”

  The bartender snaps her head around, looking mortified.

  “I told you to pick up the fucking glass!”

  “I’m so sorry, sir!”

  I turn back toward the girl in my arms. “Maya, I have bandages in my office. Come.”

  She hesitates but looks at the line of blood trickling down her skin and nods. I bend over and yank the glass from her skin, hurling the bartender an ugly look as I walk Maya to my office.

  I’ll fucking deal with you later.

  I open the door for her and usher her inside, unable to stop the jump of excitement in my cock as I close it, shutting the noise of the bar away.

  “Here, sit down.”

  She takes a seat in one of the leather-backed chairs and I grab the first-aid kit under my desk.

  “I’m really sorry about this.”

  “It’s okay. It doesn’t really hurt.”

  I rip open the kit and grab some gauze and Neosporin. Maya tentatively extends a hand to grab it from me, but I shake my head.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  She cocks her head. “I think you just want your hands on my leg.”

  You’re not wrong.

  “I want a lot more than that.”

  Her cheeks are stained with red. For the life of me, I can’t pin down this girl. She dresses like a slut but she acts like a blushing virgin. What the hell is that about?

  Shaking my head, I take her leg in my hands. It’s hard to concentrate as I glide them up her smooth skin. I extend her leg so that it lies across my thigh, and then I spread the ointment over the cut. She closes her eyes as I wrap my hands around her. Then I take the gauze and press it firmly over the cut. Her thigh shivers when I smooth my hand over the bandage.

  “Thanks.”

  No problem, sweetheart. Now suck my cock.

  Her leg is inches from my dick, and I imagine her straddling me in this chair. Blood rushes to my groin and I can’t help spreading my fingers around her flawless skin. Her chest pulses faster with my movements, but she draws her leg away from me.

  “Let me take you home and give you a night you’ll never forget.”

  Her eyes blaze. “Tell me what you’d do to me.”

  “I told you.”

  “I want to hear it again.”

  The headiness in her voice makes my lips tug into a smirk. “First, I’d take a pair of scissors and cut that dress from your body and free those tits. Then I’d lay you over my couch and spread your legs so that I could lick your pussy.”

  “Why?”

  Why not?

  “I want to make you come with nothing but my tongue thrusting inside that wet cunt.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Then when you’re nice and wet, and shaking from your orgasm, I’ll fuck you so goddamn hard and good your pussy won’t ever be able to enjoy another man’s cock again.”

  “How would you fuck me?”

  She’s driving me crazy with all these questions. I sweep my hand along her calf and grip it. “I’d take this leg and put it over my shoulder, and then I’d take the other and do the same thing so I could fuck you nice and deep.”

  Maya’s dress vibrates right above her heart. I can see the fabric fluttering with her heartbeat, and I can feel my own thrumming hard. Like a goddamn jackhammer through my cock.

  I get up from my chair and her eyes widen as I stoop down to kiss her again.

  She places a palm against my chest and shakes her head.

  “I can’t.”

  What?

  “Why the fuck not?”

  She bites her lip viciously. “You’re Italian, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “I can’t.” This time her tone is resolute. She stands up from the chair and gives me an uneasy look before she heads toward the door.

  What the fuck?

  “Whoa, sweetheart. Talk to me. What happened?”

  I grab her wrist, and haughty eyes flick down at my hand and back at me. I’d like to fuck the insolence out of her gaze.

  “I’m going home.”

  “You can’t fuck me ’cause I’m Italian? What kind of prejudiced bullshit is that?”

  A sad look wipes the pride from her face. “My dad would kill me. I’m sorry.”

  She pulls away from me, and frustration boils in my veins. Jesus fucking Christ, she’s the biggest cock-tease I’ve ever met.

  “Let me talk to your dad.”

  Maya suddenly bursts into laughter and throws back her head as if it’s the most hilarious thing she’s ever heard. It’s fucking insulting, and I want to tie her up and fuck her anyway, father or no father.

  “Lets just say that my father could make life very miserable for a bar owner.”

  She pushes open the door, leaving me stunned in the office. I have to remind myself of two things. One, this girl has no idea who I am and how far I’m willing to go to get what I want. Two, I need to restrain my anger.

  But I can’t.

  I barge out of the office, back into the noise of the bar, and grab her shoulders, whirling her around to pin her against the wall. A slight gasp leaves her throat as her back bumps the wall, and I feel a stab of guilt for the fear widening her eyes.

  “No one walks out on me.”

  Her eyebrows narrow. “You think very highly of yourself, don’t you?”

  “I don’t tolerate disrespect from anyone.”

  A smile flickers on her face. “Look, you’re hot and all, but I can’t date Italians. My father would kill me.”

&nbs
p; “Are you fucking shitting me? You’re what, twenty-two, twenty-three, and you’re going to let Daddy tell you that my Italian cock is no good for your French-Canadian pussy?”

  Her eyes narrow dangerously.

  Too far.

  “Let me go.”

  Fine. Get the fuck out of here.

  My hands slide down her arms, which sprout with goose bumps. She reaches for the hem of her dress and pulls it over her tits, my cock hardening at the sight of them bouncing right in my fucking face.

  “Come home with me,” I say in a deep voice. “Daddy doesn’t have to know.”

  The effect of my words slides down her throat like a hot drop. Her lips tremble as she stares at me.

  “Can’t. Sorry.”

  Then she gives me a quick peck on my cheek.

  “Thanks for the drink.”

  Thanks for the drink.

  Like I’m some fucking chump. This has to be a joke.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  She gives me a scathing look. “I never promised I’d go home with you.”

  Her hair feels like silk in my hands. I let her strands glide through my fingers as I watch her inhale deeply, trying to hide how much she wants me. “I don’t like being teased.”

  A blush rises in her cheeks. “I didn’t—”

  I back her against the wall. “No, you just wanted to fuck with me. That was the plan, wasn’t it? Some harmless flirting, and then you give him blue balls and go home to Daddy without finishing what you started.”

  She doesn’t back down. A light blazes from her eyes as she clenches her jaw shut, clearly bursting to tell me off. I step back from her, and she throws me an ugly look before walking away.

  “If I see you in this bar again, I’ll throw your ass out. Don’t come back here.”

  I say it to her back, but she hears me. She slows her step and then walks out of the hallway, disappearing into the bar.

  My cock’s still rock hard and I want to hit something.

  I walk into the bar, ready to smash my fist through the drywall, to beat in the first person’s face who looks at me wrong. What’s wrong with being Italian? It’s not like she was Irish.

  Tabarnak de câlisse, it pisses me off.

  I look around the bar, tempted to find another broad to bang and forget about the hot one still burning in my mind, but none are half as beautiful.