Bad Boy Boxed Set

by Whiskey, D. G.

  “That sounds fascinating.” I didn’t have to feign interest. I’d experienced nothing like it.

  “Excellent. Shall we?”

  “Right now?”

  He smiled as he got to his feet and pulled me along with him. My hand never left his. “No time like the present. This is a nice pub, but I’d rather get to know you over cocktails and art.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. With one last look around the room, I nodded my agreement. Liam led me out of the pub and onto the street, twilight settling over the city as we strolled along the sidewalk.

  “So, do you often pick up random American girls in pubs?” I asked. “And is holding hands when first meeting someone a British thing?”

  Liam grinned widely, an expression that would have made any other man look goofy but somehow just added to his character. The perfection of his smile helped. “This may be my first time for either, actually. The longer I held onto your hand in the pub, the less I wanted to let go. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, it’s nice.” I squeezed his hand. “Just unexpected. How far is your friend’s place?”

  He pointed with his free hand. “That’s it, just up there.”

  A mass of people gathered a couple of blocks up the street. It looked like an enormous line.

  “Holy! Is that a line to get in? I thought this was a little get-together, not a huge event!”

  It was Liam’s turn to squeeze my hand. “It will be fun, I promise you.”

  We reached the line of people, and Liam pulled me along to the front entrance. A red carpet lay on the sidewalk leading to the door, with a red velvet rope barring the way.

  “I don’t mind waiting in line,” I said.

  “Nonsense.” Liam unhooked the rope from its support and gestured me through.

  A beefy man in a nice suit with an earpiece caught sight of us and walked over. “Excuse me, you need to go back and wait in line.”

  He didn’t look like the type of person I wanted to get on the wrong side of. “It’s okay, Liam. Let’s go.” I tugged on his hand.

  “Liam?” The bouncer did a double take as he looked at Liam’s face. “I’m so sorry, sir. Please, go right in.”

  My mouth dropped, and Liam looked back to give me a wink. “I told you. Let’s go.”

  Still connected with interlaced fingers, Liam pulled me along with him as he strolled through the wide double doors as if he owned the place.

  “What the hell was that about?” I asked when I’d finally caught my equilibrium. “That bouncer looked like he saw a ghost.”

  Liam shrugged. “He must have recognized me as his boss’s friend. I’ve been here before.”

  The atrium opened to a large series of connected rooms. Each was set up with a different theme and color, with an array of paintings, sculptures and art installations spread throughout. It was already crowded inside. Waiters circled with glasses of wine and champagne.

  Art was one thing I’d never taken the time to appreciate. It didn’t help me with my work, and I understood little of it. Liam set out to change that.

  “This piece here is one of my favorites—I made sure that Oliver displayed it tonight.”

  Liam had flagged a waiter, so I stood and sipped and tried to make sense of what I was looking at.

  “It’s… a bunch of broken glass?”

  If it hadn’t been sitting in the center of the room on a podium, I would have thought the display was destined for the garbage heap. Shards of glass were piled in many patterns, and some hung from strings. Many of them were silvered, like a mirror.

  “Look beyond what it is, and into what it represents,” Liam said. “Art can mean many things to different people. Good art isn’t just about looking pretty.”

  “What do you see when you look at this?”

  Liam took a sip of champagne and then used my hand in his to pull me closer to the podium.

  “Do you see your reflection in the shards?”

  I squinted at the hanging bits of mirror. They dangled from their strings, swinging gently as the air stirred in the room.

  “I can’t make us out. Am I supposed to?”

  “No. And what use is a mirror when you can’t use it to look at yourself? It’s an object that mostly serves a singular purpose in our daily lives. What the artist has done is taken a medium used for vanity and the examination of self and turned it into something aesthetically pleasing for its own sake. It’s beautiful.”

  With Liam’s attention held by the artwork in front of us, I watched his face as he spoke. The almost painfully handsome face was animated, the eyes lit with passion. The grace of his speech captivated me.

  He’s very smart. Most men who look like him would never bother developing their intelligence as well.

  Liam had been attractive enough when he was just a pretty face, but hearing that breathtaking English accent expound on such a cultured topic was even more enticing.

  He caught me looking at him. “You aren’t looking at it.”

  I smiled. “I found something more interesting to watch.”

  Liam’s lips found an easy smile as his hand pulled me closer, until I stood pressed against him.

  “If you think my mouth is fun to look at, you should see what else it can do.”

  That mouth drew closer to mine, hovering an inch away until I couldn’t take it any longer. I pressed up the final distance and kissed him.

  2

  ~ Liam ~

  Addison’s lips were soft and full against my own, the kiss starting slowly as I teased her. I pressed harder, and she responded, matching my every move as heat built between us.

  With both hands occupied, I used a forearm to pull her harder against me, turning the kiss into a full body embrace. The lithe redhead’s form melded to mine perfectly, like it was created to fit next to me.

  Rein it in, Liam.

  As impatient as I was to take things to the next level, we had nowhere near the level of privacy necessary for that. Even kissing her had been a poor decision made in the heat of the moment.

  Back in control of myself, I skillfully brought us back out of the kiss, ending it softly despite how badly I needed more.

  Addison’s eyes remained closed for a second longer before fluttering open.

  “That was… good. Wow.”

  Her American accent was charming.

  “That’s not the only thing my mouth is good at,” I reminded her. I couldn’t help but to picture her stunning red hair spread across my sheets as I used my mouth to welcome her to London.

  The beauty’s pale cheeks colored a faint rose. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  Over Addison’s shoulder, I saw a group of people looking our way, phones in their hands and pointed toward us.

  Fuck. What a stupid loss of control.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s move on and check out the other rooms.”

  Addison nodded and squeezed my hand as she let me lead the way.

  The next room was resplendent in layers of deep blue and emerald green. Several water features added life to the layout, the liquid running over carvings and raining over a miniature landscape.

  “That looks so cool!” Addison said as we walked up to the landscape.

  The water misted from a series of coils with small punctures that hung from the ceiling. The landscape below was a replica of a rolling countryside on a small scale. Water gathered and flowed down a series of streams until they merged to form a river that then emptied to a lake at the far side of the room.

  It was an impressive installation, taking up the majority of the large room.

  “Look at this!” Addison pointed to a miniature pasture, complete with a tiny fence and little puffs of cotton. “Are those sheep?”

  I laughed. “It looks like it. They spared no details. This must have taken the artist ages to complete.”

  We left the rainstorm behind to work our way through the rest of the rooms. Addison was an enthusiastic and charming escort.

&n
bsp; I couldn’t have asked for a better result from asking a random woman at a bar to accompany me.

  It had succeeded in its goal—taking my mind off the no-show by James’s hacker friend. I’d looked forward to meeting the computer genius James had praised, but there was no hint of the business card signal inside the pub and no nerdy-looking man who fit the mental image I’d constructed.

  It’s okay. I’ll just have to figure something else out later. For now, I’ll just enjoy Addison’s company.

  The chemistry between us was intoxicating. I’d had my fair share of women, but never had there been such an instantaneous connection. She also claimed to not know who I was, and that was a rare thing. She could be lying, but if so, she was a better liar than I gave her credit for.

  Our fingers remained entwined as we wandered through the gallery. I took every opportunity to touch her body, using my other hand to get her attention and point out a particularly interesting piece or drawing her close to let people pass in the busy rooms. Now, several glasses of champagne in, Addison grew more comfortable with our closeness and leaned into me whenever I drew her close.

  After an hour of looking at art, teasing and flirting as we went, we reached the largest room in the gallery. It was set up with a fully stocked bar, a DJ, and a dance floor. Many people were already there—those who took less time to appreciate the art or were mainly there to party. The floor was packed, which would make it easier to avoid prying eyes and invasive cameras.

  “Would you like to dance?” I asked.

  “I’d love to.” Addison finished her champagne and set the glass on a table on the periphery of the room.

  The music differed from the easy and low strains that had played in the background through the rest of the gallery. It was fast-paced, with a deep, throbbing bassline.

  We took the floor. I pulled Addison with me until we neared the center of the crowd. There wasn’t much room to maneuver, so we started close and immediately got closer.

  Addison put her hand around my upper back and pressed against me as we moved together in time with the music. The rest of the room faded away. The only thing that mattered was the music and the way her eyes looked into mine.

  I placed my hand on her lower back, pulling her tighter against me before dropping it further. Her full ass bounced to the beat under my hand, and I squeezed it as I moved my hips in rhythm with hers.

  Addison bit her lip as we stared into each other’s eyes. Our bodies touched in a dozen places at once, the contact so hot that sparks should have rained from us in a brilliant shower.

  I couldn’t resist her any longer. I bent to take her mouth with mine, picking up where I’d left off in the gallery and escalating further. Addison’s mouth opened for mine, our tongues dancing as we gyrated to the music that entranced the crowd.

  Hands explored, emboldened by the press of bodies around us as we hid in plain sight. Addison’s dress was tantalizingly short, and it only rode up further as we ground against each other.

  The alcohol, rubbing against each other’s body, and the fire in Addison’s eyes conspired to put me thoroughly in the moment, and my body responded. Her eyes widened as she felt my manhood stiffen between her legs. When she bit her lip again, I nearly lost control.

  I can’t take this any longer.

  I leaned close, my lips next to her ear. “Do you want to come back to my place?”

  She cocked her head to the side with a slight smile, waiting a few seconds before nodding.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  It took a couple of minutes to work our way through the crowd to the edge of the dance floor, which was for the best—it gave my body time to cool off and my arousal to become less obvious.

  Through the entire foray onto the dance floor, our hands had never left each other.

  With my heart still racing from the intensity of Addison’s body against mine, I was impatient to get to the next step. She must have been feeling the same because she matched my quick pace through the gallery to the cool evening air beyond.

  “That was so much fun,” Addison said as we took to the sidewalk. “Thank you for bringing me along. I had a blast!”

  We strolled down the street, hands swinging where they interlaced.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for coming with me. Despite the priceless works of art in the gallery tonight, you were the most beautiful.”

  I could always tell the depth of a woman’s character by how she took a compliment. Addison didn’t disappoint.

  “Oh, Liam, you’re too kind. What is it about you British men that makes you such complete charmers?”

  “Us British men? I thought this was your first time here?”

  She shrugged. “American TV has a stereotypical take on the British—at least the handsome ones—and I can’t say you’re falling too far from the tree on that one.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” She couldn’t know that I was as British as it was possible to be. “My apartment is around the corner, if you are still interested.”

  Outside, cooling down from the heat of the dance floor, she might have changed her mind.

  Her thumb traced lazy circles on the back of my hand. “I rarely sleep with men the first night I meet them—not since I graduated college.”

  She trailed off, although it sounded like she had more to say.

  I hope she has more to say.

  “But?”

  Addison grinned and stuck her tongue out. “But, I’ve had a great time with you so far tonight. And based on the way you dance, I have the feeling I wouldn’t regret going home with you.”

  I gave her a long look. “I can guarantee that.” I said nothing more, curious where her thought process was headed.

  She swung our connected hands up. “Plus, I’m still not ready to let go. I like that we’ve held hands all night. I mean, it’s my first time in London, and I want to see all it offers…”

  The cue was as obvious as it could be. I stopped and used Addison’s hand to bring her firmly against me. My free hand cupped her cheek as I kissed her.

  This one was slow, gentle, and teasing. I took her lower lip between my teeth and nibbled, teasing it with my tongue before sinking deeper. She moaned deep in her throat.

  “See, that’s what I’m talking about,” she said once we’d broken apart and resumed our walk. “You’re a fantastic kisser, and I want to know what other tricks you have up your sleeve.”

  “You’ve got serious talent yourself.” I pointed to the building ahead on our right. “Luckily, this is my apartment right here, so I hope you’re ready for more.”

  “Show me what you’ve got.”

  3

  ~ Addison ~

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  The lobby of Liam’s apartment building was miles beyond what I’d expected. It was so much nicer than anything I’d seen before—and I had stayed in excellent places while working with James.

  A concierge at the desk tipped his hat as we walked to the elevator. “Good evening, Mr. Windsor.”

  “Good evening, Frederick,” Liam replied.

  “Liam Windsor? That’s a nice name.” It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

  He winked. “It has some history to it.”

  There was no more time for questions at that point. Liam spun me and pinned my hands above my head against the elevator wall.

  This time, he didn’t capture my mouth. Instead, he latched onto my neck, his mouth hot and wet, creating intense sensations that traveled along my nerves until my entire body responded.

  “Oh, fuck, Liam.”

  His talented lips trailed to my collarbone, the pleasure almost too much to bear. I squirmed under him, wanting to run my hands along his powerful body but unable to move them.

  The elevator came to a stop just as Liam’s mouth reached the upper part of my breast, the exposed cleavage relatively modest above my dress but enough for him to leave me panting for more.

  “Thi
s is us,” he said with a devilish smile as he let my hands drop and pulled me along.

  I wasn’t any less impressed when we entered his apartment. It was huge. It must have taken up much of the floor, and based on the views out the windows, it must be a penthouse. As I wandered into the living room, a glance up confirmed it—there was a large skylight in the ceiling, the full moon framed within.

  “Liam, this is ridiculous!”

  He didn’t give me the chance to ask any more questions. He pulled me against him, molding our bodies together. His now-familiar mouth descended to mine, those perfect lips opening as we explored each other further.

  “I'll let go of your hand,” he murmured. “Because otherwise, this will get much more awkward than it needs to be.”

  I nodded my agreement, but it was still a shock when we let go. It had been hours since we’d introduced ourselves, and the feeling of his hand in mine had become second-nature at this point.

  Liam more than made up for it. I lost myself in a haze of building pleasure as two hands and a mouth roamed my body, caressing my back, squeezing my ass, running up my sides and pushing my breasts together.

  With my own hands free, I took full advantage of the opportunity to explore Liam’s muscled body. His effortlessly stylish shirt stretched tight across his back as his arms encircled me, the hard muscles packed onto his frame to an impressive degree.

  His fingers found the zipper at the back of my dress and tugged it down. No longer supported, the fabric drifted downward, helped along by Liam’s sensuous hands. Now only in my bra and panties, the direct contact of skin on skin as Liam caressed me felt better than I could have imagined.

  “This shirt looks awful on you,” I said. “It needs to come off.”

  Liam leaned back to give me a quick up and down look. “Is that right?”

  I winked. “Horrendous. I’ve wanted to tear it off you since the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

  He grinned, stepping back from me and unbuttoning the tailored shirt. “I’ll take your word for it. I wouldn’t want to subject you to such a terrible eyesore.”