The Bad Boy Arrangement

by Nora Flite

  I'd get the company in the long run, but in the short run, I'd be dealing with him.

  Giving Gram one more hug, I stepped out of his big arms. “I need to get out of here. If I see Mom or Dad right now, there's no telling what I'll do.”

  He chuckled, looking over my head and out the open door. “Better go, then, here they come.”

  I spun, seeing them facing away at the end of the hall. “Dammit.”

  “Go,” he said, “Before I have to explain to Security why you gave the heads of the company black eyes.”

  Laughing, glad he'd eased the mood, I backed out the doorway. “Alright, see you later. And... thanks. I mean that.” In a rush, I fled down the hall as fast as my heels would let me go.

  Gram was my brother, no matter how my parents treated him. He'd always been good to me, and though I couldn't do much for him, someday... if I was CEO...

  I could give him anything he wanted.

  I just had to do the one thing I dreaded.

  Rounding the corner of the building, I headed down the sidewalk. It wasn't even noon yet, but the New York sun was smudged behind thick grey clouds. December was looking more grim than the cheerful decorations on the street lights wanted to suggest.

  I hope the Metro isn't packed. Though I could afford a car, I didn't own one.

  I'd never learned to drive.

  That never got in my way, though. I had public transport, or the convenience of private car companies. Parking in this city was a nightmare, so personally, I felt blessed not to own a giant metal monster.

  It's time to go home. A hot shower and clean clothes are waiting for me. Once I'd gotten out of my sweaty outfit, I'd be able to think clearly. And I had a lot think about.

  Eyeing the big fluffy clouds, wondering if we'd get snow, I walked right into something solid. “Aah!” I cried out, my balance going off kilter. Stumbling backwards into traffic, I had no way to stop my momentum.

  Shit shit shit!

  All those thoughts about cars, and now, one of them was going to crush me in the street. There had to be some irony in that.

  I'm going to die! I...

  Strong hands grabbed me, circling my lower back while squeezing my wrist. “Easy there,” a voice chuckled.

  I knew that voice.

  Lifting my eyes, I stared at Abell's intimately close face. There were electric blue flecks in his irises, his broad, fit body casting a shadow over me darker than the storm clouds above.

  When I gasped, his scent swarmed my head—maple pancakes and pine. He smelled like a damn bed and breakfast out in some quaint countryside. My stomach even rumbled a little, a fact that made me turn red.

  Both of us looked down at his hand where it was gripping mine. Yanking myself free, I put some space between us. I rubbed my wrist, feeling his warmth linger. “You,” I said, hating how breathy I sounded. “What are you doing here?”

  He jerked a thumb to the side, indicating a yellow Ferrari. “This is where I parked. Why are you still here? You booked it out of that meeting over twenty minutes ago. I figured you'd be as far away as you could get by now.”

  My blood was still rumbling from my near death by passing cars. Wiping my clammy palms as casually as I could on my jacket, I forced them to stop quaking. “I got pulled aside for... business reasons. I am in charge at this office, after all.”

  No way I'm telling him about my talk with Gram.

  He bowed his head slightly. “Not surprising, you were trying to take 'charge' with me all night.”

  The reminder of our hookup brought new thoughts into my skull. They popped like bubbles, but I didn't enjoy the contents.

  This is the guy I need to marry if I want to keep my future.

  Everyone's future.

  He stood in front of me in distressed jeans and an open leather jacket. Beneath it he was clad in a pale grey, too-tight-because-the-world-needs-to-know-he-has-a-rocking-bod T-shirt.

  And he did have a rocking bod.

  I'd seen it in all its glory.

  Last night, Abell had pressed against me so firmly I'd expected his tattoos to leave ink stains on my skin. For all of his issues, he had some good qualities.

  Too bad they were all bedroom related.

  The rumors about his entitled nature and arrogant, over-sexed personality were pretty easy to believe. Whenever anyone at the office brought up Birch Industries, the girls would inevitably start whispering about the 'bad boy son' of Corin Birch.

  Of course, they called him Abram, because no one had met him in person long enough to know what he preferred to be called.

  One time, my secretary had been gossiping that he'd gotten arrested for indecent exposure. Apparently, according to her—and the internet—he'd been fucking two models on a yacht, and when they'd pulled into port, he'd kept it up... right on the front deck for the world to see.

  She'd offered to show me photos, but I'd turned her down.

  If only I'd let her, I mused. Then I would have recognized Abell. I could have avoided sleeping with him. Ugh.

  He yanked me from my thoughts. “You were wrong, you know.”

  I blinked. “Huh? Wrong about what?”

  His smirk was jagged. “You swore you'd never see me again.”

  I bit my tongue, trying to think of a response. My silence just goaded him on.

  “Don't you remember?” he asked. “Here, let me jog your memory. I was naked, you were naked, we were in my bed after a long night of wild, rough sex and—”

  “Stop!” I hissed, glancing side to side. There were too many people walking along the sidewalk, including potential employees or clients from Halloway Inc. I didn't want them to hear about my escapades. “Just shh! Of course I remember.”

  His smile was way too pleased. “Then you remember our bet.”

  For a long while I stared at him. This morning was a vivid memory; his hand on his hidden, but obvious, erection, that seductive grit in his voice as he purred at me. “The bet,” I blurted out. “You mean...”

  “The date, yeah.” He leaned closer, his lips unfairly within kissing distance. “I think you owe me dinner, but I'll accept lunch. How about it? I heard your stomach growling minutes ago.” With one finger, he traced upwards from the top of my pants to just below my breasts, pulling away. “I know you're hungry.”

  Clutching my stomach protectively, I felt my heart racing. I wasn't going to tell him that the growling had been my reaction to his delicious scent. “Lunch? Now?”

  He shrugged casually. “We can get to know each other better. It'd be good for both of us, what with our eventual tying the knot.”

  The reminder of my doomed situation turned my fluttering chest into a tangle of cold elastics. I twisted my hand in my shirt, dropping my arm to the side. “I know plenty about you, Abell.”

  “I think you know what I'm like with my clothes off, but I'm more than just eye candy.”

  Shaking myself, I pointed a finger at him. “It doesn't matter. There's not a chance in hell that I'm marrying you, and a lunchtime get-together wouldn't fix that.”

  Liquid sin invaded his voice. “I don't know. I did win the last bet, I think I'm on a lucky streak.”

  His cockiness blew my mind. “You honestly think you can convince me to marry you?”

  “I think I can convince you to do a lot of things,” he chuckled wickedly.

  Trying to ignore the warm tingles that had grown between my legs from his dark promise, I shook myself. “I don't get it. Why would you want to do this? Doesn't it bother you that your father is forcing you to get married?”

  A flash of genuine anger crawled through his stare. “Of course it pisses me off.” Reaching into his pocket, he dug out some keys. “But it'd piss me off more to lose my lifestyle.”

  Of course. He wants to fuck around and be a playboy king. A rush of confusing jealousy and disgust hit me. Why the hell did I care if he loved being a manwhore?

  It bothers you because you don't want to get mixed around with a guy who enjoys
that kind of wild lifestyle.

  Yeah. That was all it was.

  Sourness invaded my voice. “Guess it's all about the money and random sex for you.”

  “Correction. Copious amounts of random sex.” Grinning, he clicked a button on his keys; the car revved loudly as it started. “Isn't it the same for you? The money, I mean. Not the sex. Or maybe the sex. You tell me.”

  Flushing, I watched as he walked around to open the passenger door. “You're wasting your time flirting with me. You can't make me want to marry you.”

  “Oh, I think I can.” Running his finger along the top of the car, he winked.

  “Isn't it clear that I hate you?”

  “A little thing like 'hate' won't stop me from getting what I want.”

  The inviting, obvious lust mixing in his gaze had me shifting from heel to heel. I swallowed uncomfortably. “I don't want to go out for lunch. I just want to go home and change out of these clothes, take a shower.”

  He tilted his head. “Fine. Let me give you a lift.”

  My jaw slid open, then I clicked it shut. “You're determined to get me in your car.”

  Smiling, he tapped the roof. “It's just a ride, and it'll be faster than the metro. Come on, I won't bite—well, okay, you know that's not true.”

  The hairs on my neck stood up. “Stop talking about last night!”

  Abell's stare stuck on me like glue. “I think I found your weakness, but I wouldn't of taken you for a shy girl. Especially,” he said, his voice getting louder, “With the way you shoved me against my apartment door, grinding against my cock before we even got inside and—”

  “Shut up shut up!” I shouted, waving my arms.

  His teeth glinted in the sun. “I will, if you get in the car.”

  Looking around warily, I moved to his side. “Fine! Give me a ride home if it means that much to you.” Did this man have no shame?

  The inside of the car was a rich auburn, the seat helping me sink deep in an attempt to relax me. It probably worked on most people, but not me. I was so tense that I had to actively push into the headrest just to touch it. Otherwise, my tight spine would keep me hunched forward.

  Abell climbed in beside me, looking me up and down. “You can chill out, I'm not going to crash us into a building or something.”

  I wasn't worried about a crash.

  I was worried about what the hell I was doing.

  “Just drive,” I mumbled, pointing through the crystal-clear windshield. “My apartment is over on Cordova.”

  He pulled into traffic, taking us smoothly through the jammed downtown roads. I stared out the window, trying to avoid scanning the side of Abell's face. His skin was so smooth, the sun could bounce off of it and blind someone.

  I darted my attention back to the buildings before he could catch me peeking. I was caught off guard when his elbow brushed my knee. That simple touch sent ripples of heat down my thighs. They radiated outwards, my belly flipping and tightening simultaneously.

  One night together, and my very being remembered how good he'd felt.

  My body was my enemy.

  Abell kept moving, leaning further across me. Wrenching back in my seat, I spoke around my numb tongue. “What the hell are you doing?” Is he trying to make a move on me, right here, right now?

  He popped the glove compartment, holding up a case of CDs. “You like rock music, right?”

  I sat there and held my breath. “I—what? How do you know that?”

  Arching his eyebrows high, Abell laughed. “The concert last night. Unless you were there because you hate rock music.”

  Disoriented and unable to stop myself, I said, “I like rock, but I wasn't there for the band.”

  He squinted, pushing a CD into the player. “Don't tell me you were there to serendipitously save that girl.”

  Chewing my lower lip, I twiddled a strand of hair between my fingers. “Forget it.”

  “Come on, it can't be that bad.”

  Sighing, I looked away from him. The last thing I wanted was to see him smiling all smug at what I was going to say. “I was out on a date, alright?”

  “I didn't see you with anyone.”

  “How could you?” I laughed bitterly. “The asshole never showed up.” There, now tell me I deserved it, or what a bitch I must be for that to happen.

  “That's terrible,” he said flatly, pushing the breaks so we stopped at a red light. “What kind of a dick stands a beautiful woman up?”

  Beautiful? Baffled, I twisted my neck to look at him.

  His knuckles were crushing the steering wheel, eyes so fiercely blue they could have turned the world to ice if he stared long enough. “It takes a brutally empty heart to abandon someone.”

  There was a ringing in my ears. I couldn't stop staring at his tight frown. He agreed with me? Why would a guy who sleeps around care about anyone's feelings?

  The traffic moved, jostling us both. Blinking my fog away, I looked at the CD player. Reaching over, I tapped the buttons until a song I liked began to play. I think he was stealing glances at me as I did it, but I didn't have the guts to check.

  We said nothing more until he pulled up outside of my apartment.

  “Here we are,” I said. “Thanks for the lift.” Climbing free, I slammed the door. I had to get away from that bubble of him. The whole car was packed with his essence; warm and intoxicating.

  A second car door clapped shut. Abell had hopped out, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn. “I could use some coffee, do you have any?”

  With wide eyes, I looked at him in disbelief. “You're not coming inside.”

  “Sure I am.”

  “No, you're not.” Shaking my head briskly, I walked towards the steps. “Why would I invite you inside?”

  Abell followed behind me closely. “You saw the inside of my place, it's called fairness.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Fairness, you know, when—”

  “I know what fairness is.” Scowling, I dug my keys out of my pocket, unlocking the door. “People don't trade home visits like dinner checks.”

  He put a hand on the wall, leaning there. “They should. The world would be a friendlier place.”

  I didn't want to get 'friendlier' with Abell Birch. Yanking my door open, I gave him a warning glare. He just smiled back at me. The guy could smile his way out of a knife fight.

  Hovering over me, he said, “If you make us some coffee, I'll count it as our date.”

  On some level, I was aware that I owed this man nothing. But I liked to keep my word, and I had promised him a date if we saw each other again. If we do this now, I can get it over with. He'll have no leverage over me.

  Analyzing him, I said, “You're incredibly determined.”

  “You have no idea.”

  Pausing, I waved him inside. “Fine. One cup of coffee.” Why did that sound familiar?

  Just one drink.

  Right. I'd been trying so hard to run away from all of the stress and frustration in my life last night, that I'd kept drinking with Abell. It had been spontaneous—tempting. The adrenaline high from standing up to the attempted rape, then Abell's blatant flirting... I don't know.

  He'd just made the idea of running from my stress, just for one night, so appealing.

  I'd let it go too far, but that wouldn't happen again. Coffee was safe, no one hooked up on coffee dates.

  Did they?

  Dropping my jacket onto the couch, I set my keys on the granite counter-top of my kitchen island. My place was the perfect size, in my opinion, for someone like me. I didn't have parties, I owned no pets, so I needed very little.

  Most of my time was spent at work.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” I said, setting up the coffee maker. The scent of the grinds filled my nose, making me smile.

  Abell unzipped his jacket, but that was the extent of his 'getting comfortable.' “Nice place, your parents pay for it?”

  Stunned, I nearly dropped the mug I'd pic
ked up. “That's a little forward.”

  “That's what you find forward?” Leaning on the fridge, he crossed his ankles.

  “Money-talk should only happen between friends, and we're not even acquaintances, Abell.”

  “After letting me bury my fingers in your sweet pussy, we're beyond acquainted.”

  I was on fire, my kitchen too small, too hot suddenly. “Yes, my parents pay for this.”

  “I'm guessing they pay for everything.”

  Shaking my head, I propped against the sink across from him. “I work for my money, they don't pay for everything.”

  He cracked his knuckles, watching me in his intense way. “It's their company, technically, whatever they pay you belongs to them.”

  Lines pulled over my forehead. “If you want to be precise, your dad owns their company, now.” My blunt observation hung in the air. The only sound was the constant percolating of the coffee machine.

  Abell breathed in slowly, as if he was thinking about what to say. “Yeah. I guess he does. But he won't, if you do what he's asked.”

  Laughing louder than I meant, I pulled the pot of coffee off the burner, filling the two mugs I'd placed nearby. “You act like it's so simple.”

  “Isn't it? Think about how your life will change if you don't marry me.”

  “It'll change no matter what I choose.” I motioned for him to step aside so I could get into the fridge. When he did, I pulled out a carton of heavy cream. “Your motivation is really obvious, Abell. You said you want to keep living your life as King of the Playboys.”

  Grinning, he waved away my offer of cream, sipping the black coffee. “That's not how I phrased it. Why do you make it sound so awful, what's wrong with sex?”

  Pouring enough of the white liquid into my mug to turn the coffee pale, I said, “Nothing.” My cheeks burned, the discussion making me uneasy. “Sex is fine. But sex with all those people you don't even know? How can that be satisfying?”

  “You didn't know me. Wasn't it satisfying for you?”

  Looking deep into my cup, I eyed my own reflection. Yes. It really was. But I couldn't admit that, so I just took a large mouthful of my coffee instead.

  “How much cream do you like?” he asked, clearly noticing how I'd drained the container.

  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “A lot, copious amounts.”