The Bad Boy Arrangement

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The Bad Boy Arrangement Page 1

by Nora Flite




  The Bad Boy

  Arrangement

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  Nora Flite

  Copyright © 2015 Nora Flite

  All rights reserved. THE BAD BOY ARRANGEMENT is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Also from Nora Flite:

  Last of the Bad Boys

  Only Pretend

  For the Thrill

  For the Fight

  For the Bond

  Hard Body Rock

  Slow Body Rock

  Flawed Body Rock

  True Body Rock

  Watch Me Fall

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  A preview of what's to come:

  - Chapter One -

  - Chapter Two -

  - Chapter Three -

  - Chapter Four -

  - Chapter Five -

  - Chapter Six -

  - Chapter Seven -

  - Chapter Eight -

  - Chapter Nine -

  - Chapter Ten -

  - Chapter Eleven -

  - Chapter Twelve -

  - Chapter Thirteen -

  - Chapter Fourteen -

  - Chapter Fifteen -

  - Epilogue -

  LAST OF THE BAD BOYS

  - Chapter One -

  - Chapter Two-

  - Chapter Three -

  - Chapter Four -

  - Chapter Five -

  - Chapter Six -

  - Chapter Seven -

  - Chapter Eight -

  - Chapter Nine -

  - Chapter Ten -

  - Chapter Eleven -

  - Chapter Twelve -

  - Chapter Thirteen -

  - Chapter Fourteen -

  - Chapter Fifteen -

  - Chapter Sixteen -

  - Chapter Seventeen -

  - Epilogue -

  ~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~

  Also from Nora Flite:

  Connect with Nora!

  A preview of what's to come:

  “You shouldn't give me instructions,” he whispered, fingers circling my wrist just below my mug. “I'm the kind of guy that will listen. Telling me what I need to do to make you blush is dangerous.”

  My mouth was suddenly dry, I couldn't even remember the taste of my drink. Abell ruled my senses.

  I could see where his eyelashes connected with the hooded lids of his heated eyes. I could even see the tiny lines across his perfectly smirking lips. We were too close, and I knew it, but my brain was firing wrong.

  Stop this, I told myself, Don't let him get to you.

  I had wanted to go home and think. There was so much riding on me, and I hadn't had the time to process it fairly.

  Abell was showing me he knew exactly how to take over my mind. His nearness was as good as a typhoon, demanding my attention and roaring that if I stayed or if I ran, the result would be the same.

  He would consume me.

  “Nix,” he said under his breath.

  “Y—yeah?”

  Smiling slowly, he ran his thumb in a circle around the underside of my wrist. “You're spilling coffee everywhere.”

  Glancing down, I saw that my floor was shining from the constant drip of my drink. Unconsciously, I'd been tipping it as I leaned towards Abell. I shook myself, realizing I'd been inches away from kissing him. I knew he'd taste like the tang of fresh brewed coffee. He'd be delicious, he'd—Stop!

  Reaching out with my other hand, I grabbed my mug and set it on the sink. Then, I peeled at his fingers; he let me go reluctantly. “Abell, no, we aren't doing this.”

  “Doing what?” he asked, still hovering over me.

  His thigh touched mine, and I jumped. “This. I wasn't playing hard to get, I really have no plans to do anything with you. Ever,” I added for emphasis.

  Chuckling, he rubbed his leg on mine, sliding it inside my knee until we were twisted up like a pretzel. His hands came down on the counter behind me, halting any escape. “You're trying to tell me none of this is tempting you?”

  Unable to look away from his stare, my breathing became choppy. “I'm cold as a fish.”

  “Oh yeah?” His eyes flicked down, staring pointedly at my shirt. I followed his gaze, noticing what he had; my nipples were stabbing through the fabric.

  Biting my tongue, I searched for a response. “It's just chilly in here.”

  He twisted his lips together. “Then I'll have to warm you up.”

  Something was crushing into my hip, digging in hard. With my heart pressing into my ribs, I shut my eyes. I knew what was grinding against me so firmly.

  That's his cock.

  He had a hard-on thick enough to drill through his jeans.

  Abell whispered, “I never did get lunch. Maybe I could eat something else?”

  Each time my heart thumped, it strangled my brain. This can't happen. Subconsciously, I rocked my body against his. Abell inhaled sharply, a small noise in his throat.

  His fingers coiled in my hair. Vibrations echoed through my bones, rolling into my pussy, my clit already so swollen I felt my panties rubbing it with every small shift of my hips.

  It felt amazing, and I knew, if I just... just let this happen, it'd be...

  - Chapter One -

  Abell

  It had been three days and five hours since my last fuck.

  Well, give or take.

  I could be wrong about the hour.

  Either way, I was antsy as hell. Going this long was like keeping water from a man in the desert. I could survive for awhile, sure, but I knew myself. If I didn't find a nice pair of thighs to dive between, I'd be useless to the world.

  So, really, it was for everyone's benefit that I got laid.

  I had a few places I liked to roam when I was scouting for a playmate. Bars are stereotypical, but they work—especially if you like the college crowd. Clubs? They were too sweaty for my mood.

  Tonight, I'd gone a little out of the way.

  The rock concert was in a park that had been strung up with Christmas lights along the fringes. An invigorating chill infused the night air. All in all, it wasn't a bad scene. I just wish the damn speakers weren't numbing my ears, I thought with a chuckle.

  The band had been playing for twenty minutes, but I couldn't have repeated any of their lyrics. My attention was devoted to scouring the rolling bodies for my next prize.

  There were women everywhere, thank fucking goodness. Skinny types in painted on jeans, curvy girls with their tits fluffing out... you name it, they were here in droves.

  I was in Heaven.

  As I swayed casually to the music, I moved with grace through the packed bodies. The smell of spilled beer weighed the air down, making me glad the venue was outdoors. The space—like every event in this city—was too small to hold everyone comfortably.

  Speaking of too small. To my left, a woman in a skirt that barely hid her ass was grinding at the air. Her hair was slicked back in a high tail, makeup clinging around her eyes like she was auditioning for a movie about Egypt.

  She was trying way too hard.

  I love the Try-Hards.

  They were the kind of girl you knew was looking to get s
ome cock. Their actions said, 'I'm right here, just insert tab A into slot B and let's go!' My type, entirely; women who knew what they wanted never failed to get my pants tight.

  Grinning, I slid beside her, my hips rocking with the tempo. Wordlessly, not even meeting my eyes, Skirt-Girl humped the air until she was inches away from me. Her hips twisted, towering heels barely moving off the grass—maybe so she wouldn't fall and break an ankle.

  In seconds we were swaying together, her round ass touching my zipper. That long length of hair brushed her neck, tempting me to reach out and grab it.

  I hoped she liked having her hair pulled, because once I got her alone, I planned to yank it back so I could nibble her pale neck. Just thinking about that has me getting stiff. Carefully, I adjusted myself in my pants, never missing a beat.

  The music suddenly exploded, turning into applause. Skirt-Girl slowed down, acting like she was watching the stage, but I knew better. This game and I were old friends.

  Running a hand through my hair, I smiled at her until she glanced my way. It's funny, we hadn't said hello, but I'd had my erection on her ass for several minutes. “Hey,” I said, nodding at the band. “I think they're finishing their set. Come take a break with me, get some air.”

  Cocking her head, Skirt made a show of toying with the top of her halter. “How about you buy me a drink first?”

  I wasn't surprised by her request. Try-Hards sometimes want you to buy them something before they'll sleep with you. It's an exhausting ritual, but what did I care? Cash was never a problem for me, I'd had it in spades my whole life.

  “Sure, I'll be right back, Sugar. What do you want?”

  Her eyes darted down, fixing on the front of my jeans for a long second. Oh, she was good. “A beer is fine. For now.”

  For now.

  Jeez. Try-Hards are seriously the best.

  “Beer. Not a problem, you just hang here.” My smile touched my eyes, then I was off. I knew where the nearest vendor selling alcohol was, I'd already chugged a bottle down when I'd first arrived. The problem was that they were as far from the stage as you could get.

  Shoving around dancing groups and chatting people, I beat a path towards the drink stand. It was past ten, the sky a rich blue-black that would never be truly dark, not with all of the city's light pollution.

  The edge of the park had a few tall lamps, the people thinning until I didn't feel like I was being crushed in a tuna can. Most folks wanted to be near the stage, so the fringe was almost empty in comparison.

  There, I thought, walking towards the small table in the distance. Buy some beer and hurry the fuck back before little miss Skirt finds another cock to ride.

  “Get the fuck away from her!” A voice shouted out from my right. On instinct, I turned to look.

  Just down the grassy hill, away from the crowds, there was a woman. Reddish hair, black pants, a surprisingly demure cream colored top and appropriate jacket for the weather. Pretty. Normal. But the situation she was in wasn't normal at all.

  She had her hands on a man's arm, yanking at him to get him away from...

  Oh, shit.

  There was another girl, and she was kneeling on the grass at the guy's feet, doubled over like she'd taken a punch. Had that guy actually hit her?

  “I said get away from her!” The red head was pulling at the man. There was no hint of fear, even though he could easily break her damn skull. Her short black heels dug into the ground. She meant business.

  What was going on? And why was no one else doing anything?

  Not my problem, I told myself, glancing at the drink stand. Visions of Skirt-Girl danced in my head. Her plump lips, her perky ass, her—

  “I'm calling the cops, you son of a—Aaah!”

  Red was a damn ghost to me, I had no clue who she was. Regardless, when I heard her scream, I bolted down that hill at breakneck-speed.

  His fingers were crushing her forearms, turning the skin bloodless. Seconds before I careened into the group, I saw Red's face. Instead of terrified about how he was ready to split her in two, she was pissed this guy had dared to touch her.

  Who was this woman?

  Grabbing the man's shoulders, I yanked him to me, forcing him to release Red. Then, before he could get his balance, I shoved him away violently. He stumbled, catching himself at the last second.

  “Hey, Fuck-Head!” I shouted, cracking my knuckles. “What the hell are you doing to these two?”

  I wasn't some breed of hero; this was none of my business. But no one else had stepped up.

  How could I sit back and watch?

  The big guy stomped forward, eyeballing me—sizing me up. “This isn't your problem, buddy. Why don't you get out of here before you get hurt?”

  I knew he could see the muscles through my tight shirt and open jacket. I'd dressed to impress the ladies, but it also warned the world that I was no push-over.

  If this guy thought I'd be an easy mark, he was dead wrong.

  Standing taller, I flashed my best smile. “A lovely woman in a skimpy skirt is waiting for me to return, and you just cock-blocked that plan. Someone has to pay for that, might as well be the asshole beating on his girlfriend.”

  To my left, Red made a face. “I'm not his girlfriend, and neither is she.”

  “You're both single? Good to know.” I blessed her with a quick smirk. The way her eyes widened had my heart beating faster.

  Unfortunately, I had other priorities.

  The big asshole lifted his chin, chest puffed out like a rooster. “Last chance, get lost or get ready to collect your teeth off the grass. Hope you have a good dentist.”

  “Holy shit,” I laughed. “Did you really just say that? Like, actually say that out loud?”

  Lines crawled across the bridge of his nose, a snarl if I'd ever seen one. Talking this out was a failure. I'd already figured it would be. Any guy that'd attack a woman had to be short-tempered.

  Ducking low, he ran right at me.

  I'd taken some martial arts classes when I was a teen. Nothing serious, basic body-movement and leverage shit. My mother's idea, of course—she wanted me to know how to protect myself from the 'bad kids.' I don't think it occurred to her that I was one of those kids.

  If she was still alive, I would have thanked her for those lessons now.

  Anticipating his movements, light on my toes, I tensed up. When he got close, I darted to the side. It didn't take much momentum—he was the one rushing me—for my fist to slam into his guts.

  The noise he made was awful, like a balloon deflating while it dribbled wetness.

  Coughing, my attacker slumped forward. Hugging his stomach, he glared up at me through his hair. Drool slid down his chin, veins criss-crossing the whites of his eyes.

  The fucker wanted my blood.

  Twisting my torso, I got ready to give him one more hit, something to drop him for a few hours so he'd stop being a threat. Nighty night, I thought.

  Red's knee came down, catching him in the ear and planting his face firmly in the grass. Green stained his cheek, his shirt ruined from his own spittle.

  The other girl gasped, covering her mouth.

  Holy shit. Lifting an eyebrow, I stared at Red appreciatively.

  She smoothed her shirt, shrugging. “He deserved it.” Bending over, she helped the blonde woman to her feet. “Are you alright, miss...?”

  “Trish,” she said, stepping further away from the unconscious man. “And thanks. Both of you. I don't know what made him think it was okay to corner me like that. I told him I didn't want to go home with him. I'd seen him slip something into my drink earlier, knew he was bad news.”

  A picture was forming in my mind. This guy wasn't just violent, he was a fucking rapist. I hadn't felt bad for him before, but now, I fought back the urge to kick him while he was down.

  Red pulled out her cellphone. “Let me call the police.”

  “Wait,” Trish said quickly. “I'd prefer if you didn't.”

  I frowned dubi
ously. “He tried to drug you. The shit-heel shouldn't get to walk away from that.”

  “Nothing really happened, just almost. The cops won't help with this.” Trish shrugged defeatedly. “I've been down this road before. Nothing gets resolved and I get dragged through the mud.”

  Red looked shocked. “Wait, what?” she asked.

  Offering an apologetic smile, Trish slid backwards. “Thanks again.” In seconds, she'd faded into the crowd.

  The red-head tightened her eyebrows, glaring down at the guy on the ground. “Now what do we do?”

  I understood her anger; this man was trash. But we were in public, it wasn't like I could tear him to pieces with everyone watching. The reality of the situation sucked. I said, “We can't do anything, so we have to do nothing. For now.”

  She fixed her wide eyes on me. The centers were flaring, green jade that was engulfed in flames. “What does that mean, 'for now?'”

  Nudging the guy roughly with my foot, I took some sick pleasure in his groan. “That girl is right. The world is unfair, it's shit. This guy is going to be walking the streets again, looking for prey. That's the reality.”

  “So what, he never has to pay for trying to rape someone?”

  Slowly, I moved my eyes to hers. I was sure she sensed the budding fury in me. How could she not? It was making the back of my neck hot as a furnace. “No. I said we'd do nothing—for now. He'll pay someday. This city is smaller than it seems.”

  Red's lips parted so that the center was a beautiful little 'o' shape. The genuine threat in my voice, my not so subtle promise, had made her reevaluate me.

  Seeing the way her eyes lit up, I did her the same favor.

  I'd lost my chances with Skirt, perhaps it was time for Plan B.

  She said, “You'd hurt him? You'd go that far for justice?”

  Grinning, I offered her my hand. “Don't know what you're talking about, I don't give a shit about justice. Name's Abell, and you?”

  Looking from my palm to my face, she hesitated... then reached out for the handshake. “Nix. And you're wrong.”

  I blinked. “Huh?”

  She motioned at the guy in the grass who still hadn't moved. “You have to care about justice a little, you jumped in to try and help a pair of strangers.”

  My jaw tightened from Nix's scrutiny. Having my actions picked apart made me uncomfortable. “What can I say? I heard a beautiful woman in trouble and had to step in to help.”

 

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