British Bad Boys: A Bad Boy Romance Boxed Set

by Marissa Farrar

  ***

  “The wind’s dying down,” he said, pulling her close beneath the space blanket he’d wrangled from his pack. Sunlight now shown through some of the cracks in the stone walls, and the frenetic sound of the storm had been replaced by the more relaxed dripping of water. “People will start wondering where we are.” As if in response to his words, his phone pinged a message, and he cursed under his breath. “They’re waiting for us in Buttermere. I’ll have to tell them we’re here.”

  She groaned and nodded as he sent back a message. Finished, he stowed his device, kissed her shoulder and sat up. It was then that she noticed the thick white scar low on his spine. Without thinking she laid her fingers against it, and he stiffened beneath her touch. “Is that the injury you talked about?”

  He nodded and pulled his shorts up to cover it. “It took nearly two years to recover,” he replied. “The surgeon said I was lucky to have the use of my legs at all.”

  And then it clicked. “You’re worried something similar might happen to me.”

  He poured tea from a flask and handed her a cup. “I was being reckless when it happened. The weather was bad like this. I was warned not to go, and I went anyway.” He settled on a rock opposite her and looked down into his cup. “Afterwards, when I knew that I wasn’t going to be paralyzed, when I knew I’d make a full recovery, I overcame my fears because the fells are my heart. I had no choice. If anything happens to me, the way I see it, well it’s just me, and it’s my choice. But you.” He forced a laugh. “If something happened to you … that thought makes me cold all over.”

  “That’s my choice to make, Wolf. You know that.” She sat up and began to dress. “Haven’t you trained other people for fell running?”

  He looked up at her, and his eyes were bright in the dim light. “Lots of them, but never one I wanted to make love to before.” He finished his tea and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

  His phone pinged another text. “That’s the camera crew. It’s cleared enough, so they’re heading up to meet us and get some shots in the afternoon light.”

  A very convenient storm for Wolf and Lauren.

  Lauren and Wolf, no tension, relaxed, smiles. Somebody got laid!

  Willing to bet certain somebodies got some today. FINALLY!

  Would love to have been a fly on the wall …

  Chapter 9

  The Bet

  “Well, Del, we’re down to the wire,” Misty said. “To everyone’s surprise except for Claire Amos’, Lauren Michaels has become a powerhouse, soaking up Wolf’s training and internalizing it. Body fat down, lean muscle mass up,” the stats flashed across the screen, “and who knew that Physicality Inc.’s PR goddess could run?”

  “If you’re wondering where team Wolf/Lauren are at the moment,” Del said, “they’re down in the common room pouring over maps. Apparently Lauren won’t know which of the five legs of the Bob Graham Round she’ll be doing until the morning of the challenge.”

  “As we’ve come to expect, Del, the workouts have been brutal, and Lauren has pushed herself at least as hard as Wolf has. They run every day on varying terrains – a lot of it is more of a scramble than a run. That’s in addition to the usual gut wrenching gym workouts. During their training, Wolf has run Lauren over a good bit of the Bob Graham Round. She’s prepared for anything. And the audience is 100% behind the Wolf/Lauren team. Here are a few tweets.”

  She’s tough, our Lauren.

  Wolf’s done himself and Physicality proud.

  Almost to the challenge! Woo hoo!

  I want to see how they celebrate after Lauren kicks butt.

  Misty offered her best presenter’s chuckle “I’ll bet there are a lot of people out there who are speculating on what the post-challenge celebration will be, Del. Wolf and Lauren are slated for a final fifteen minutes in the Closet with Claire Amos, and then they’ll be joining us one last time in the hot seat before tomorrow’s big challenge.”

  “I’d imagine Claire Amos is feeling pretty smug that her girl has done so well against all odds,” Del commented.

  “I think proud is the word you’re looking for, Del. Proud. But while we wait for our couple to join us, here’s a recap of the last twenty-four hours.”

  ***

  “You ready for Claire?” Wolf poked his head into the common room.

  “We have five minutes,” Lauren said, restraining herself from touching Wolf’s hand where he’d rested it on her shoulder.

  He bent over her until his breath raised a trail of goose bumps along her neck and tightened her nipples beneath her shirt. “Studying the route, I see.”

  “Have you decided which leg I’ll be doing?”

  He sat down next to her, and she couldn’t fight the twitch of a smile as he rubbed his foot up against her calf. They were all about stealth these days. Every day it became more and more difficult not to attack each other in a fit of lust.

  “I have,” he scooted his chair closer on the pretense of looking at the map, then trapped her hand in his beneath the table, running his fingers over her knuckles. “It’ll be a surprise.”

  “I like surprises. Speaking of, shall we go see what our illustrious boss has to say?”

  This time as they headed down the hall toward the Closet, Wolf slipped his arm around her waist. “I think we can get away with a little bit of a cuddle on our last night here don’t you?”

  She returned the favour, imagining what the tweets would be in response.

  “Just so you know,” he whispered, “there’ll be kissing when you finish your challenge. He pulled her in tight against his side. “Lots of tongue and possibly some gropage. I don’t care who’s watching.”

  “Ooh! A very good reason to get on with it then.”

  There were always tweets and comments and speculations about stealth moves in the Wolf Lair, and every time they were out of contact due to a storm, the audience let their filthy imaginations run wild. Truth be told, beyond their time in the bothy on Fleetwith Pike, only once had they managed more than a serious grope and some lip action. It had been absolutely pissing it down at the time, and Wolf had taken her from behind in a quickie under the shelter of a huge beech tree. The whole heated desperate coupling was over almost before it started and the thought of shagging in such an exposed place in such inclement weather still made Lauren wet.

  In the Closet, Skype was pulled up on the iMac. They’d barely settled into the chairs when a message from Claire flashed.

  Lock the door.

  By the time Wolf had done as ordered, the next message flashed.

  Sorry Lovelies, can’t make our Skype sesh. You have exactly fifteen minutes all to yourself. Enjoy!

  Lauren barely had time to register the little giftie her boss had given them, before Wolf stood and bent over her, taking her mouth in a luscious kiss with plenty of tongue she thought she’d have to wait for until tomorrow. He kneaded her breasts in turn, sliding up her vest and shoving the cups of her bra aside. Then he took her nipples into his mouth, each just long enough to set off little shock waves of pleasure in places farther south, places he seemed to be nibbling and licking a trail toward. “Mmmm,” he moaned. “There’s nothing like making love to a well-muscled woman.”

  “You do that often, do you?” she asked, lifting her bottom for him to drag down her shorts and panties.

  “Not nearly as often as I’d like.” He settled her feet on his shoulders, splaying her obscenely, and she jerked and gasped as he licked from her perineum all the way up to her clitoris, where he settled in to suck and nip and trace the pearl of it with his tongue. When she was swollen and tetchy and could barely keep from bouncing out of the chair, he opened his fly and slipped into the condom she didn’t know he had. “I told you I’m always prepared.” He wiped his glistening face on the back of his arm and pushed up into her, the strength of him nearly overwhelming in the stretch and strain of hard muscle and tight sinew. She wrapped her legs around his hips and rose to meet him, circling
his neck with her arms. He smelled of her, as he kissed her. Beneath her scent, he was woodland and ozone, picante in his arousal, sharpened by their need.

  As cupping and thrusting and pushing became urgent, the chair creaked and the sound of their desperate breathing filled the room, then stopped. Everything stopped except for the driving need for relief. And when it came, it washed over them like a fell wind leaving them shaking and trembling and gasping and nowhere near sated.

  Someone had conveniently left a towel folded on the desk next to the computer, and Lauren nearly came again as Wolf thoroughly cleaned her. The lust spiked even higher as she watched him clean himself, a need only made manageable by the delicious thought that after tomorrow it really wouldn’t matter if the truth got out. In fact it would make for good press, she figured.

  Exactly seventeen minutes later, they were settled into chairs in the lounge in front of the cameras waiting for the clip about the Bob Graham Round to finish.

  It all went well, the usual questions, plus a few questions from Twitter and Face Book fans and a little reminiscing about the hardest and the best parts of the six weeks.

  “It must be very satisfying, Lauren, to know that all those nay-sayers who bet you wouldn’t last the six weeks will be losing their bets.” Del said.

  “It feels good to have accomplished something that seemed so impossible in the beginning. Of course I’m still not done, but I think it’s a safe bet, Del, I won’t be quitting before the challenge is finished.”

  “Yes, I think that’s money in the bank,” Del said, raking her up and down with a look that felt more like it belonged in a bar than in a gym. “But I reckon they’ll all be ready to put down their money again when Physicality Reality has its six month anniversary. Then we’ll all get to see if you’ve kept up your training and if you can actually finish the Bob Graham Round in under twenty-four hours.” He gave a little shrug and a grimace. “Sorry, honey, still not sure I’ll be putting my money on you for that one.”

  Before Lauren or Wolf could respond to his nasty remark, Misty defused the situation with an uncomfortable laugh and a nod to the folks at home. “Well, Del, if you don’t mind losing again, it’s your money.”

  “My money and lots of other people’s money as well. In fact it’s surprising the number of bets that have been placed this past six weeks, and by whom. Isn’t that right, Wolf? In fact you were one of the first ones to place a bet, weren’t you?”

  When Wolf’s response was only a tightening of his jaw and the flush that climbed his neck, Lauren’s insides lurched and the sudden clenching in her chest felt cold.

  “Is that true?” She asked, speaking over Misty’s desperate effort to change the topic by talking training techniques, which at this point, no one cared about.

  “Oh, it’s true,” Del all but crowed. “I can show you footage if you’d like to see for yourself, Lauren. Looks like even your trainer didn’t think you’d stick with it, and frankly I—”

  “Is it true, Wolf?” She asked again ignoring Del for the bombastic arse he was.

  “Frankly, with Claire Amos’s scheming and Wolf’s evil trainer acting skills coming down on you hard—and the man is a good actor, I’ll give him that—I still don’t think you’d have stuck to it if you hadn’t been sleeping with him.” Del waved a hand as though batting away a mosquito “There’s no use denying it because a kitchen worker from a certain Keswick pub caught it all on his iPhone.” He nodded and, to gasps and utters of the live audience watching from the mezzanine, the video ran of the two of them in the back garden against the wall.

  “Come on Del, I don’t see anyone having sex here,” Misty said, still trying to keep the situation from spinning out of control. “I see Wolf leaving before any article of clothing was even removed. I see Lauren heading back into the pub.”

  “Oh, don’t be so naïve, Misty. Surely you don’t think this is the end of it, do you? Why else do you think Claire Amos put Wolf up to the bad boy act? She knew it would all make for good viewing.”

  The two presenters were suddenly arguing as the scene behind the pub replayed again.

  “We are having sex,” Lauren said.

  The presenters froze mid argument and stared at her. The audience went silent.

  “But not then we weren’t.” She nodded to the video loop. “In the bothy during the storm on Fleetwith Pike, that was the first time.” She turned to the audience. “How many of you people out there betting on when and if we’d do it got that one right? There were certainly lots of tweets and speculation.” She turned back to the presenters. “In fact, you two speculate about our sex lives all the time, almost every update. It’s become a far more titillating topic than my training and my hard work.

  “I can tell you right now, if I’d had any idea that Wolf Jennings didn’t have enough confidence in me to not bet against me, there sure as hell wouldn’t have been any sex, certainly not with someone who didn’t believe in me, but was more than happy to screw me.”

  When Wolf reached for her, she pushed his hand away and stood. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” She left the lounge feeling like the entire Wolf’s Lair had just collapsed around her. What Wolf did after that, she didn’t know, didn’t care.

  Wolf Jennings should be called Rat Bastard!

  Lauren’s challenge should be to shove a dumb bell up Del Allen’s arse & Wolf’s too!

  Wolf Jennings sucks!

  Chapter 10

  The Challenge

  Apologize Wolf! Make up, you two! Work together!

  Del Allen excels in arseholery!

  Hey Wolf! Lose the bet. Don’t lose Lauren!

  As Lauren had expected, on the morning of the challenge, the rift between her and Wolf was still getting the lions’ share of attention on social media and in the studio. She did her best to avoid any questions that didn’t have to do with the fell run, which meant avoiding everyone in general. That was a challenge in itself.

  Wolf had chosen the second leg of the Bob Graham Round, from Threlkeld to Dunmail Raise. For the average fell walker, it would have been an exhausting twelve and a half rugged miles. For all but a few hearty souls, the idea of attempting to run the route was absurd. Physicality, Inc. had a helicopter on hand for aerial shots of the dramatic Lakeland scenery as well as camera crews at strategic locations along the path. All of the footage was relayed back to the control room at the Wolf’s Lair, edited, then filtered through Misty and Del along with multiple guest commentators. But none of that mattered to Lauren. All she wanted was for it to be over with so that she could find someplace private to have a good cry.

  “I don’t expect you to come with me,” she’d said when she found Wolf waiting for their morning briefing. He looked as under slept as she was. She supposed there was some consolation in that, but damn little.

  “Of course I’m coming with you. I’m your trainer. That was always the plan. Nothing has changed.”

  “Everything has changed,” she said softly, not missing the flinch he tried to hide, nor the stiffening of his shoulders as he drew a deep breath and spread the OS map on the table. And then he was all business. He cautioned her, once again, on the challenges she would face along the route. They were running against the weather, which was predicted to deteriorate as the day wore on. The run from Threlkeld to Dunmail was three hours and forty-five minutes to four and a half hours for an experienced fell runner. She had no expectations of finishing anywhere near that fast. The route was an exquisite ridge run beginning with Clough Head and rising along the extended spine of the Dodds. From there it ascended to Helvellyn, the highest point in the run, and the third highest peak in the Lake District—certainly one of the most iconic. The ridge continued over Nethermost and Dollywagon Pikes, then on to Fairfield and Seat Sandal before descending to Dunmail Raise. It was damp and overcast when they began the run, and there was little hope of it improving. The weather matched her mood, she thought.

  Wolf wished her luc
k as they began the challenge, and then he said nothing until they reached the summit of Clough Head, which was the start of the steadily ascending ridge they would be running on for the biggest part of the day. When at last he spoke again, his voice sounded distant. “Are you really going to train for the whole run?”

  “Yes,” she panted. “It has nothing to do with work, nothing to do with you. I’ll train for it and finish it because I want to.”

  “Good. That’s good.”

  She didn’t linger long enough for him to say anything else. She didn’t think she could bear a pep talk from him when she knew he didn’t mean it. For a few minutes she ran alone fighting the urge to look back over her shoulder. After that she caught the occasional glance of him in her peripheral vision, obviously smart enough to give her space.

  ***

  “Well Del, it looks like the rain has set in, though touch wood, no wind at the moment. Still, Lauren has taken two falls between Raise and White Side. You can see the concern on Wolf’s face, but she doesn’t seem to be injured, certainly doesn’t take his offered help.”

  “Let’s hope the falls are just due to the rain, Misty, not due to carelessness on her part. She’s just now coming up on the halfway point. If she’s getting tired, it doesn’t bode well for what’s to come.”

  “Her timing’s good so far, Del. The close-ups aren’t showing any distress in her face and certainly not in her pace, in spite of the weather.”

  “I sure wouldn’t want to be on the fells right now with those two,” Del said. “There may not be any mist at the moment, but I’m betting the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife.”

  “Thanks to you, Del, at least that’s a bet you’d probably win.”