Unprofessional Bad Boys - Boxed Set (Contemporary Romance)

by Clarissa Wild

  And when I open my eyes … I come face to face with heaven.

  Well, that’s what it feels like anyway when two pristine blue eyes stare right back at me and take my breath away. A guy in an all-white outfit in the far corner of this club has caught my attention, and I can’t look away. Part of his face is hidden behind a scarf, but it doesn’t make him any less mesmerizing. I’m completely frozen to the ground as he walks in my direction.

  Is he really coming toward me? Or am I dreaming?

  I clutch my drink, but my legs are shaking as the man approaches me. Should I stay put and see what happens? Or run away and never come back? What if he’s here to kidnap me?

  Don’t be ridiculous. No one’s going to kidnap you in the middle of a club with hundreds of people around.

  But then why is he looking at me like that? Like he just … found exactly what he’s looking for?

  I’m locked in indecision until there’s no way to back out.

  He’s right in front of me now. His eyes still on mine like a hawk honing in on its prey. Slowly, he peruses my body, taking in every detail and making me feel stripped naked.

  With two fingers, he tugs down the scarf around his lips. The smirk that appears underneath makes my heart beat in my throat.

  He’s gorgeous. Drop-dead gorgeous.

  I swallow away the lump in my throat as he grabs my drink from my hand and places it on the small table behind me, then grabs my hand. The touch of his skin against mine sends delicious shocks throughout my body, and my brain turns to mush as he drags me farther onto the dance floor.

  The music is loud and silences the noise in my head as this stranger dances with me. His moves are sexy and downright dirty, but not too filthy. Just the right amount to keep me hooked. I don’t know what I’m doing or why; I just know I don’t want it to stop.

  I’ve never been the kind of girl to just dance with a random stranger, but this guy … he’s something else. An invisible attraction exists between us that neither of us can fight, and I don’t even want to.

  I just want him to swoop me up and take me out of here.

  It’s silly and totally irresponsible and dangerous, but I’m thinking it anyway.

  Maybe being in a foreign country does things to your brain that makes you want crazy things.

  Or maybe it’s just this guy who does the trick for me.

  Because holy hell, I can’t keep my eyes off him, he’s that hot. Light blue eyes that light me on fire when I look at them. Short, tousled black hair, a little curly on the ends. A hint of scruff around his firm jawline. Muscles peeking out from underneath his shirt. Thick lips showing a grin with just the right amount of arrogance.

  It’s as though he just walked out of my dreams.

  We’re getting closer and closer. I’m lost in the music, lost in his eyes. His hands are on my body, holding my waist and pulling me close as we dance to the rhythm. And as my eyes slowly close more and more, I do the craziest thing.

  I let this stranger kiss me.

  Full on the lips.

  And fuck me … does it feel good.

  His kiss numbs the voices in my head telling me not to do stupid things. It’s so good that I can’t even stop kissing him back.

  His lips part and his tongue dips out to lick mine, but only for a quick taste, nothing more. He’s giving me a sample of what he’s got to offer … and boy, do I want more.

  My arms wrap around his neck as his hands snake around my waist. We’re locked in a sensuous greed neither of us wants to escape. And I don’t even know why.

  I never do this. I never go out without friends, and I certainly never kiss strangers like this. And I don’t even know his name.

  For a few seconds, I come to my senses, and my lips unlatch from his. But I can still taste him on my tongue … and holy shit, does it taste good.

  But I have to keep my focus to stop from going too far. At least, that’s what I tell myself because Lord, this man will make it hard. So hard.

  He seems just as struck by our sudden desire to kiss as he blinks a couple of times and remains frozen on the floor.

  Then his lips crash right back onto mine, breaking every train of thought I had. My brain feels as though it’s turning into mush as he plants one delicious kiss after another. I’m helpless to fight it, and the more his hands slide across my body, the more turned on I get. The heat of the dance floor and the beat of the music only add to the delirium, and I’m finding it hard to think about anything other than jumping this man’s bones.

  It’s wrong, it’s so wrong, but the longer our mouths are locked, the more I’m beginning to lose my senses. He’s guiding me away from the floor and into the bathroom, all while kissing me senseless. And I don’t even mind as long as he doesn’t stop.

  We’re lucky no one’s around because the moment we burst through the door, he’s got his hands all over my body, groping me in places that make me all hot and bothered. He groans into my mouth as he whisks me off the ground and sets me on the bathroom counter. He positions himself between my thighs and holds me down while kissing me hard and fast. It’s all going so quickly, I feel like I’m stuck in a whirlwind of excitement, and I don’t want it to stop. Even though it’s so damn wrong, and I’m out of my mind for letting this stranger touch me like this. But fuck me, he knows just what buttons to push to make me say yes to pretty much anything, including being fucked right here in the bathroom of some foreign club.

  His lips are everywhere—on my neck, my cheeks, my collarbone. Even his tongue comes out to play. Drawing lines everywhere, he’s toying with my tongue and licking the roof of my mouth. He nibbles on my bottom lip until I moan, and when our eyes briefly lock, I lose every inch of control.

  “Have you ever been fucked by a stranger?” he murmurs against my skin as his fingers dive between my legs. He’s touching me right there underneath my black dress. He’s fondling me in public, grazing my pussy with his fingers, and worst of all … I don’t want it to stop.

  I shake my head and realize I’m about to make a dumb decision. But I can’t help myself. Not with him. I’ve never done anything this dangerously stupid with a random guy I just met, but he’s not just any guy. This man … he’s something else.

  He knows just how to touch me to make me want to beg for more. Especially when he starts toying with my pussy right through the fabric of my panties.

  A hot breath of air leaves my mouth as I tilt my head back while his mouth leaves delicious pecks on my skin. I struggle to breathe as he plays with me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

  That’s when he grabs my thighs and pulls me off the bathroom counter, only to turn me around and push me face down against it. Grunting, he hooks his fingers around my panties and tears them off. Within seconds, a packet is ripped, and I hear a zipper come undone. I gaze at him through the mirror as he grips my ass and positions himself behind me.

  The moment his tip enters me, I gasp. He’s huge, and the farther he thrusts, the more I feel as though I’m about to explode. Fuck.

  I’m being fucked by a stranger, and I’m loving it. There’s nothing more wrong, more illicit than this, yet I can’t bring myself to end it. It feels so good, making my eyes roll into the back of my head. That’s how hard he’s banging me against the counter.

  I can feel myself come undone from the sheer force of his thrusts, and I moan out loud. His dick pulsates inside me, amplifying the pleasure as we both come at the same time, moaning like animals.

  When my orgasm subsides, he pulls out and takes off the condom, tying it up and throwing it in the trash. Before I’ve even had a chance to look at him, he’s already zipped himself up again as if nothing ever happened.

  As I get up, he takes ahold of my body again and pulls me in for a toe-curling kiss. One I won’t forget anytime soon.

  “What’s your name?” he asks, his voice dark and sultry.

  “Maya,” I reply, my throat clamping up.

  “Maya …” He licks his top lip in
a way that makes me feel as if he just laid claim to my name. “Amir.” He grabs my hand and presses a kiss on top. What a gentleman.

  My brain is still trying to process what happened when someone suddenly enters the bathroom, and my entire face flushes.

  “Ahh …” the woman mumbles, gazing at both of us.

  I clear my throat and quickly pull down my dress. “Sorry, I was just … washing out my clothes,” I lie as I try to hide the panties underneath the sink.

  She glances back and forth at both of us as a wicked smile appears on her lips. Of course, she caught us kissing. I just pray she didn’t see anything else.

  “Excuse me,” she says as she tries to pass us both. However, she stops midway, and her eyes remain fixated on Amir. “Hey … you look like … aren’t you—”

  “No, I’m not,” Amir interrupts with a strict tone, and he quickly pulls his scarf back over his lips.

  The woman flinches and makes a face. Then she goes into a cubicle but not before throwing a final glare our way. Who was she? Or more importantly … why does she know him?

  But before I can ask him, he’s already gone.

  Disappeared through the door as though he never even existed.

  Chapter 3

  Amir

  I drop onto my bed and stare at the ceiling, breathing out a sigh. Fuck me. That was insane. But worth it, nonetheless.

  God, that girl … those lips … and that fuck.

  Even though it’s been an hour since I last saw her, I can still taste her sweet lips and feel her pussy on my dick. I wish I could’ve kissed her a little longer. And maybe fingered her too. I would’ve brought her back to this hotel room for a second round if that woman hadn’t interrupted us.

  Why did she have to recognize me?

  I close my eyes and try not to think about it, but the image of that girl continues to spring into my mind. She was beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Not like the girls from here. I rarely see them with that kind of pearly white hair and almost translucent skin. It was mesmerizing. And the way she danced? Fuck me, it made me want to rip off her clothes and lick her body. So I did.

  I normally never just randomly fuck them and especially not in a bathroom, for fuck’s sake. But I couldn’t stop myself. The moment my lips crashed into hers, I needed to have her, had to claim her for my own then and there.

  I cover my face with both hands because just thinking about the way I fucked her against the bathroom counter causes my pants to tighten from my growing cock.

  Why am I even thinking about this? I’ll probably never see her again. But why does that piss me off so much? Damn.

  Maya

  Even though it’s already morning, I can’t stop thinking about last night.

  I can’t believe I had sex with a man and only learned his name afterward. God, this is so unlike me. I don’t usually kiss on the first date, let alone let a man screw me like that.

  But he … he was something else, that’s for sure.

  While I’m sipping coffee and enjoying breakfast here at the hotel, the memory of our kiss and fuck keeps a constant smile on my face. I’m normally never this easy, but this encounter has left me giddy. Maybe I should let go more often.

  This trip has only been amazing so far. I’ve seen huge skyscrapers in the middle of the desert and rode camels to some unknown oasis. And the people here are so different from what I’m used to as well—very calm and collected unlike back home where everything’s so noisy. I’ve gotten so used to New York’s bustling sounds that I’ve forgotten what nice and quiet sounds like … and here in Dakai, I’m rediscovering that peace.

  The place isn’t all progressive, though. We’re not technically allowed to go all bananas in public, wear skimpy clothes, or touch in public, let alone kiss. Or fuck.

  Jesus, I really did break a couple of laws. I hope I won’t get thrown into jail. Here’s to hoping the woman couldn’t identify me.

  Not that I’ve seen anyone get arrested yet, so I assume the authorities aren’t on it like hawks. Maybe they’re lenient. Besides, kissing and touching is allowed in the clubs, though what we did definitely broke all the rules.

  Goddamn, I’m smirking to myself again just thinking about that stranger … Amir. His name alone makes the goose bumps appear on my skin again. He was too sexy to be true, and sometimes I still wonder if it all really happened.

  Not that it’ll ever happen again. I don’t know where he lives or what his last name is, so I’ll probably never see him again. Still, a girl can hope, right?

  But I have to remember I’m not here to hook up. I have business to attend to today. I was invited to this country to design clothing for the royal family, and when I found out they’d picked me for the job, I completely freaked out. I didn’t expect to actually get it, let alone be designing for royalty.

  But here I am, and I’m making my parents as well as myself proud.

  After finishing breakfast, I hurry out the hotel to go to my appointment. My contact isn’t directly with the royal family, of course; it’s with one of their many assistants, as expected. Hell, I don’t think I’ll ever even meet any of them. But it’s humbling to know they’re going to wear what I create. It’s not every day you get to work for royals, so I’ll do my utmost best.

  I take a taxi to the square in front of the palace. I’m glued to the window because I can’t take my eyes off the beautiful architecture. Especially the palace … wow. It’s brilliant white with luscious plants growing on all sides, potted plants as huge as a one-story building, big black doors, and ancient looking statues.

  The taxi guy drops me off right in front of the square as he’s not allowed to go any farther. Luckily, I know where to go.

  After paying him, I walk through the middle of the square, passing all the tourists. A few big cars are parked out near the end of the street—probably some rich people showing off. I know for sure when I see a guy wearing a long white garment and a black headband around his head leaning back with his elbows against the hood of his car, flaunting two girls at his side. But my jaw drops the moment I realize who it is.

  Amir.

  I stop in my tracks and stare for a few seconds, wondering if I’m dreaming.

  But then he laughs, and I can hear his voice. It’s definitely him.

  He’s really here. What are the odds?

  And at that moment, he suddenly turns his head and stares right back at me.

  The moment seems to last forever, and I can’t look away.

  I know he’s seen me, but does he recognize me? Does he remember the girl he fucked in the bathroom of a dance club?

  I swallow when I see one of the girls placing a peck on his cheeks, and my mood immediately sours. Of course, he’d be that kind of guy. Kissing random girls you’ve never met, banging them whenever he can. Why would I expect anything less? He probably doesn’t even remember my face, let alone my name. I should’ve known better than to just let myself go with the first guy who showed interest in me.

  I shake my head and turn away, determined not to let this sway me from my goal. I’m not here to find a boyfriend or have casual sex. I’m here to do my job. To make kickass clothes and make a name for myself. To put my brand on the map and become a famous designer. That’s what’s important right now.

  So I keep my head high and walk on ahead to the palace. The side entrance is where I’m supposed to enter. The assistant told me someone will open the door for me, so I’m assuming they know I’m coming.

  When I get to the gate, I ring the doorbell and wait for an answer. “Business inquiries only,” a stern voice says.

  “I’m here for an appointment with Mrs. Adallah. She said you knew I was coming.”

  A few minutes pass before someone comes strolling to the gate to unlock it manually. Guess they really don’t like to let people in. Or maybe they wanna check if it’s really me.

  “Passport please,” the man says before he allows me in.

  I reluctantly pull it out and show it to h
im. His eyes scan the pages before he gives it back. “All right. C’mon.”

  By the time I’ve put my passport back in my bag, the man’s already gone ahead. I have trouble keeping up with him without looking like I’m rushing, but I don’t want to make a fool out of myself because I’m about to meet someone who actually works for royalty.

  When we’re close to the entrance, the man suddenly takes my bag and puts it under an X-ray machine, probably to check if I brought anything dangerous. I guess you can’t be too careful with royalty and stuff. Luckily, I pass the test.

  My heart’s beating out of my chest when he opens a door and beckons for me to enter. My eyes are peeled as I marvel at the beauty inside. White marble slabs line the floors and walls, the décor extravagant because of the gold practically slathered on everything. Gold fountains, gold lining along the pillars in the middle, golden statues, and even flaky golden pots filled with plants and flowers.

  “Last door on your left. Do not go anywhere else. It is forbidden,” the man barks.

  Before I can reply, the door has already shut, and I feel as though I’ve been trapped in the most beautiful prison in the world. I’m not even sure I’d be mad if they forced me to stay.

  I tiptoe around and try to gape at the massive halls, but every time someone passes, I feel like a peeping Tom crossing boundaries I shouldn’t cross. So I opt for the safe route and immediately go to my left.

  When I’m at the last door, I clear my throat and knock on the door.

  A woman in a few layers of colorful fabric opens the door, and I part my lips, a little unsure of what to say. “Hi. I’m the new designer. I’m supposed to meet with Mrs. Adallah today.”

  “You’re Maya?” the woman says, her sparkling eyes lighting up. “It’s so nice to meet you.” She shakes my hand and opens the door even farther, pulling me inside as she begins to talk. “Come in, come in.”

  We sit down in her office, where she offers me a cup of tea and explains to me what I’ll be doing. It’s standard practice, and nothing I’ve never heard before. The whole conversation takes an hour maybe, tops. When all is said and done, and the contract is signed, I know exactly what’s expected of me, including the fact I’m to remain silent about this to the press until after the clothing I’ve made has been worn. Any private business I witness is also not to be discussed, which is completely understandable. I mean, it’s the palace, after all, and I’m sure the media are as hungry for news and gossip here as they are back in the States.