The Bad Boy Arrangement

by Nora Flite

  Suddenly, so much made sense to me. The comments she'd made to me in her bedroom, when I'd tried to suggest she pay me back without money. I'd meant to flirt, to tease. Instead, I'd hit a sensitive nerve.

  Sweat slid down my back. I noticed my arms were knotting up, I was crushing my fists together so tight. “That kind of a contract—he can't enforce it, Zoe.”

  “I wish he couldn't. Believe me, he has his ways.”

  I jerked my chin side to side. “So much of this just makes no sense.”

  Cocking her head, she put on a sad smile. “I've told myself that so many times. So, now what?”

  I stared at her.

  Zoe studied my stance. My growing rage was clear as day. Bluntly, she said, “Will you walk away? You know the details, or enough of them. Ten years of fighting, all to make sure I don't have to fall to my knees and suck whatever cock Nehro puts in front of me.” She made a rude gesture with her hand in the air.

  Stunned, my eyebrows flew to my hairline. This was what Zoe had struggled with. I grasped her anger, because if I felt this furious, how could she not be enraged? Somehow, Nehro had a way to ensure she'd follow the letter of his perverse contract.

  The part of her that had glowered when Reese had shown up last night... proving that he was willing to fight, just not for her... I got it. I really did.

  Zoe had been desperate when she'd first called me, a man she barely knew, for help. But who could blame her? She'd been faced with no other alternative. Either I came and fought, or she would be forced into something she was clearly terrified of.

  Sex for money.

  The thing I luxuriated in.

  How could I have berated her so harshly, when I was hiding something like that from her?

  Fuck. I was a god damn hypocrite.

  “Huxton.” I had a dreadful feeling, like that was the last time she would ever whisper my name. “You can go. I won't even blame you. Ten years of risking your health—your life—for me?” Laughing dryly, her mask of false sincerity was fraying. “I'll find someone else. If I give them a cut of the winnings, even if it means I have to keep doing this for longer, maybe they'll be fine with it. Maybe they'll—”

  Catching her in my arms, I pushed her backwards. We bounced off one of the punching-bags, stumbling against the boxing ring. The ropes swayed under her weight, but I kept pressing, arching her down and holding her steady.

  I couldn't handle one more word about me abandoning her. Not now... and maybe never.

  No one fights for free.

  Gripping her hair, I kissed her roughly. My voice was guttural, raw with my rattling emotions. “How dare you?”

  “Wh—how dare I what?” Zoe's eyes were so huge, I could fall into them.

  “How dare you suggest that I walk away?” Biting her lower lip, I rolled my tongue over hers, massaging it. She tasted amazing, and it reminded me of what we'd done. What I'd done.

  Zoe was messing up my world, and I... I just didn't care.

  My eyes flashed, boring into hers. I said with a grin, “Your twenty bucks belongs to me. Got it?”

  Her mouth trembled. Zoe sank into my stare, judging me—seeking some proof that I was fucking with her. I was scared she might find some. I was acting on impulse, still unsure of what I was doing or why. I couldn't promise one year, never mind ten.

  But when she smiled, god. I stopped thinking about the future. I had a beautiful present right here, and wasn't that good enough?

  “I owe you forty, now,” she said. “It sounds so pathetic, doesn't it?”

  “It's not even enough for a date with me.” Pushing my nose to her temple, I closed my eyes. Her skin was humming against mine. “I'm not cheap. Don't get the wrong idea, doll.”

  She kissed me once, then darted away. “Good to know. I don't like cheap men.”

  With that, the mood shifted.

  The rest of the afternoon, we juggled kickboxing and cardio. Zoe pushed me, and when I didn't break, she pushed me harder. She thought I had insane stamina, but it was more than that.

  As long as I was moving—struggling... I didn't have to think.

  The worst thing I could do was think, because then, I would begin to wonder what was wrong with me. I couldn't do that. Even if it was irrational, I had to push down my doubt.

  Zoe deserved someone to fight for her.

  And I had to prove that standing up for people...

  Fighting for them...

  Didn't have to come with a price.

  - Chapter Eleven -

  Huxton

  We were both sweating by the time we finished up.

  Stretching, I slid my jeans on over my shorts, zipping my jacket next. “I need a shower, feel like riding with me back to my place?” I asked, smiling down at Zoe.

  Pulling her coat on over her tank-top, she led the way to the exit. “That sounds nice. Where do you live?”

  “Not far. It'll be a quick ride on my bike.”

  Together, we climbed onto my Harley. She did it so naturally, like hugging her body against mine was second-nature.

  True to my word, we ripped through the traffic, dodging around cars, and arrived at my apartment in record time. I parked in my spot in the back alley, leading us through the gate. The complex was small, and in LA fashion, not well insulated. I didn't mind, I enjoyed the noise of the cars passing by. It was a good substitute for white noise.

  Opening the door, I waved her inside. “Want a drink?” I asked, hanging my jacket over a chair. When Zoe said nothing, I turned, blinking at her.

  She was standing in place, fixated on the brass pole that went up to the ceiling. “Stripper pole in the living room,” she said, cracking a smile. “Bold statement.”

  “My Feng Shui has always been good.” Chuckling, I reached out for her jacket. Zoe slid it off, letting me drape it on top of mine. I liked the visual, our two garments blending together in one copulating mass.

  She walked around, turning on her heel when she reached the couch. “Nice place.”

  Following her eye, I smiled. “It's alright. Let me grab you a drink, you want water or something harder?”

  “Harder?” she asked.

  Opening the fridge, I rustled inside. “Beer, wine, vodka... unless you thought I meant something else?” Peeking out of the room, I saw how she was pursing her lips at me.

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “Water is fine.” She motioned at the pole beside her. “Do you really practice on this?”

  Filling two glasses, I sipped mine, handing her the other. “Not anymore.”

  Her eyebrows scrunched. “Don't wanna take your work home with you, huh?”

  Because I don't strip any more, I do something... else. Instead of speaking, I chugged more water. Fuck. Maybe it was time to tell her. “Zoe—”

  “Can I play on it?”

  I spilled some liquid—wiped my mouth. “On what, this?” Palming the pole, I gave her another look of disbelief. “Don't tell me you used to strip?”

  The blue in her eyes darkened, lips coiling. “Would that surprise you?”

  “Fucking—of course it would.”

  Laughing, she set her glass down, drying her palms on her shirt. “Sorry to be a downer. I've played on one before, but I never danced in any clubs.” She considered me, then added, “One of my old boyfriends was a stripper.”

  I inched an eyebrow upwards. “You're just full of surprises. It didn't bother you that he did that?”

  Gripping the brass, Zoe tested how sturdy it was. “It paid the bills, and he was pretty fun. Dating a stripper has benefits.” Grinning at me, she shrugged. “If you're cleverly asking if it bothers me that you dance, the answer is no. I mean...” Grunting, she kicked off her shoes and put a foot on the pole. “I'll admit, the lap-dance you gave me was way more intimate than anything he ever did, that I know of. It makes me a tiny bit jealous, imagining you like that with other women.”

  My heart was cramping, her words giving me weird highs of relief and plummeting despair. It was nice that
she was open minded, but she had no clue. How could she even guess at what I was doing for money these days? I hadn't been very clear.

  I mean, I couldn't be. Escorting like I did was illegal. I'd go to jail for prostitution if I wasn't careful. My card was intentionally vague, my clients all gained from word of mouth.

  Stepping back, I watched as Zoe did a wobbly spin. The look on her face wasn't sexy, she was concentrating so hard just to hold herself up. It distracted me from my mood, and soon, I was chuckling. “You're a natural.”

  “Shut up,” she said, but she was smiling, too. “Fine. Show me how it's done.”

  Without waiting a beat, I approached the pole. Zoe gave me a mini-bow, too amused by the situation. I thought it was time to shift the humor into something... tastier.

  Pushing my shoulders into the metal, I faced Zoe. She stepped back to allow me more room. Her interest was growing. “There's no music,” I said softly, stretching my arms over my head. “So use your imagination.” My chest pushed out, arching and causing the rows of muscles along my stomach to flex through my thin shirt.

  Sinking low, I crouched and spread my legs. Zoe watched me, fixated on my movements. Not wanting to disappoint, I searched my memory for everything I'd ever learned during my brief stint in strip clubs.

  Rolling my hips, I flowed like water, moving upwards until I was standing again. Dropping an arm, I inched my shirt high, exposing my stomach.

  Zoe swallowed loudly.

  Grinning, I peeled the garment over my head, my hair gaining that tousled look. Crushing the brass, I spun in a lazy, controlled circle, feet dancing over the floor. Easily, I lifted myself upwards, climbing until I had my thighs wrapped tight.

  Watching for her reaction, I licked my lips, gyrating against the pole. I ground myself against it, giving her a show. My back muscles rippled, tattoos swimming and coming to life.

  Zoe's stare was hungry, blue-fire that waited to burn my flesh. “You're good,” she said huskily.

  Winking, I let my legs go, using just my upper-body to control my decent. When I landed, I pushed my hips forward. My hard-on thrust into view, plain through my jeans. Her attention shot to it, hypnotized.

  I said, “Did you want a closer look?”

  Nodding vigorously, she erased the distance. Shoving me against the pole, Zoe tangled her fingers in my hair, kissing me so hard our teeth clicked together.

  My cock thickened, filling my briefs and challenging the strength of the material. Her hand slid over my bare skin, exploring the groove that led to my lower belly. “You probably hear this all the time,” she said, kissing my Adam's apple. “But you're sexy as hell, Huck.”

  I started to chuckle, but her palm crossed over my swollen hard-on. Instead of words, a low groan floated up and out. She shivered in response, caught up in my growing lust.

  Gripping the brass, I fought down my urge to grab her and get what I wanted. Part of me wanted to see what Zoe would do. Smiling, I looked down on the top of her head. Zoe removed herself from my cock, leaving me dizzy for more contact.

  Her nails scratched across my ribs, hands brushing up my sides, then down to my hips. My erection flexed painful through my jeans. It needed to breathe, needed to be touched. Zoe was creating a vortex of hot desire in my loins.

  The fierce vibration of a text rocketed through my pocket, surprising us both.

  Glancing down at Zoe, I smiled faintly. “I'm not answering it, keep going.” Fucking fuck, who was that? Kaley, Gina, someone else?

  She didn't hesitate for long, her hand caressing the front of my pants. Zoe rubbed me through the material, making me arch and growl desperately. Damn, that felt fantastic. I wanted her to go further, and she knew I did.

  “Is that good?” she whispered.

  “Better than anything should feel.” Licking my lips, I stared down at her, my voice rasping. “Take my cock out, babe. Go ahead.”

  Shivering and pink, she popped the button and ground the zipper down. My gym shorts peeked at her, making her growl. “You're like one of those Russian dolls, clothes under clothes under clothes.”

  “I never got a chance to change and—” The abrupt rumble of another text shut me up. That time, Zoe didn't mute her irritation. Eyeing me, she ripped my jeans down to my ankles with gusto. It was like she was saying, 'pay attention to me, got it?'

  It excited me, but I would have liked it more if I wasn't worrying about who the hell was trying to reach me. My clients were restless. But so what?

  I was, too.

  Gripping my shorts, I pulled them and my boxers down. My cock bounced into the air, heavy and engorged. Zoe inhaled sharply, nearly getting hit in the nose by it. I whispered, “Like what you see?”

  Nodding, she coiled her fingers around my base. Arousal fluttered in my belly. “I never got a good look at it last night,” she purred. “You're beautiful.”

  Beautiful. She'd called my dick beautiful. If I didn't think she meant it, I would have laughed. The haze in her stare was pure honesty, though. Zoe was entranced by my cock, her fingers brushing along the throbbing veins.

  Leaning on the pole, I thrust towards her, encouraging. “Put me in your mouth, doll. I'm going fucking crazy here. I want to feel your lips sucking me.”

  Her eyes were hooded, the corner of her mouth tucked into her teeth. Zoe knelt and acted the part of a coy virgin, but we both knew the truth. No virgin fucked like she did. The wall was down, that infuriating barrier she'd constructed to keep me out because I—apparently—reminded her of her fucking ex.

  Resentment started to bubble up. Zoe swept the feelings away with her mouth. Her lips sheathed over my cock, tongue gliding under the edge of the head. “Aah,” I hissed, reaching my fingers into her hair.

  At my feet, even through the clothes and my foggy brain, my phone buzzed a third time. Zoe tightened, holding me on her tongue and halting. Then, as my nerves were peaking, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked at me with new vigor.

  She made it so easy to ignore my worries.

  “God, that's amazing.” Tension crept into my stomach, then deeper, my balls pulling up against me. I wanted to come, she was taking me there at breakneck speeds.

  A bead of sweat slid down my chest. The hot tingles were dragging me down, a flood that I couldn't escape. I didn't want to escape. I ached to bury my cock so far into Zoe's throat, I'd have her tasting my come for weeks.

  A guttural moan left my lips. In response, Zoe whimpered, the vibrations slipping down the length of my shaft. That was it, I couldn't hold back.

  Grabbing her scalp, I shoved me way past her gag-reflex. Zoe coughed, but she didn't push me away. Her palm jacked me off, the other hand reaching low to stroke my balls.

  Rolling my eyes in my skull, I banged the back of my head on the pole and gasped. Pleasure left me blind, ripping through as my cock pulsed in her mouth. Burst after burst of my come shot along her tongue, her neck thrumming as she swallowed.

  “Fucking hell, babe,” I said. Letting her go, I pulled out of her lips, the suction fighting to keep hold of me.

  Zoe filled her lungs to the brink, gasping for air. I hoped I hadn't hurt her, I knew I could get rough—I was often encouraged by my clients. None of them liked it soft or sweet.

  She looked up at me, wiped her mouth... and grinned. “I did a nice job, I take it?” she asked, her cheeks glowing red.

  Crouching, I sat on the floor in front of her. I brought her to me for a tangled kiss. She tasted like me, and I loved that. I wanted to possess this woman, to make every inch of her wear my mark so no one would dare touch her.

  Pulling back, I whispered, “Yeah. Nice is one way to put it.”

  She chuckled, forcing her way into my arms. I say forced, but really... Zoe fit so perfect. Her curves met my concave, letting her sink into my torso with ease. It was good. Everything was so fucking good.

  Next to us, my phone vibrated endlessly.

  Turning to concrete, Zoe didn't move. Then, with the utmost slowness, she leaned
over and looked at my jeans. I believe my heart stopped. “Who keeps calling you?” she asked, staring into my face.

  The pole was cool on my back. Or maybe, my skin had become ice. I didn't know. All I was sure of was that I'd been presented with a choice. I could open my mouth and lie to Zoe, I could talk my way out of explaining what was going on. I was a good liar. I had to be.

  'Secrets are fine. But if your debt is going to change anything about how I feel about you—about what I'm doing? You have to tell me. Okay?'

  My own demands came back to haunt me.

  She was snuggled in my arms, waiting. Even if this ended with her slapping me and running... I had to do it.

  I had to spill the truth.

  “Zoe,” I said, grit shredding my voice. “I have to tell you something. You won't like it.”

  Sitting up, she disengaged and put an inch of space between us. That inch was as good as a damn mile. “What is it?”

  Scrubbing at my forehead, I leaned over and dug my phone out. Glancing sideways at her, I eyed my messages. Yup. Gina and Kaley, both of them wondering what had happened to me. For the first time, I felt ashamed about my job. I wanted to replace it with anger, but I couldn't. Not until I knew what she would think.

  Holding the phone tight, I set it on my thigh. Zoe stared at it. I sighed and said, “Do you still have my business card?”

  Nodding, she went to go get it—I grabbed her elbow, halting her. “Huck?” she asked.

  “Don't bother. Do you remember what it said?”

  “Muscle for hire.” Doubt crossed her face. “You're starting to make me nervous.”

  Smiling bitterly, I chuckled. “Me too, sugar. Listen... you think I dance for a living, or that I play bodyguard, right?”

  Zoe didn't answer, she watched me expectantly. My lovely girl of fire and ice, the most pale of statues.

  Fuck it all. I needed to rip off the band-aid.

  “I'm not a stripper, not anymore.” Grabbing my phone, I held it out to her. She didn't touch it, didn't even look at it. Zoe was fixated on my frown. “I used to, and until Eliza called me, I hadn't performed for a party like that in a very long time. I don't pay the bills by dancing.”