Win a Filthy Bad Boy: A Bad Boy Romance

by Lacy Carter

  “No,” Bonnie said. She wanted ever so badly to look away, but he looked at her with such intensity that it took all she had to utter one monosyllabic word. “No,” Bonnie repeated, more quietly this time. Words not fully formed scrambled up her throat, but the stubborn, defiant part of her swallowed them down.

  They silently stared at each other. His arms moved around her waist to pull her closer, his smoldering gaze infiltrated her to the core. The lust in his eyes rivaled her own. Nothing else existed, everything faded. In that moment, Bonnie grew terrified. Terrified of wanting him.

  What was he thinking, kissing her as if they belonged together?

  ***

  Hours after the kiss, Bonnie laid back on her bed, palm to her face, phone pressed to her ear. She rubbed her eyes in an effort to rid herself of her drowsiness. She hadn't slept all night. Sleep was impossible. Chad had shaken up her orderly world and turned it upside down. And all it took was one public kiss.

  “I don't know, Jill. It felt good, but wrong at the same time.” Bonnie huffed. After Chad kissed her, she left without a word. Not that he seemed to mind; if anything he seemed even more cocksure that she would be back for more.

  “Okay, but remember, we're talking about Mr. Steel here. The whole world knows you don't trust guys like that,” Jill said, firmly. “Establish boundaries. Stick to them. You'll be better for it.”

  Bonnie had witnessed Jill’s stint of turbulent relationships, when Jill never knew what she wanted out of life. Now Jill took hold of the reins of her life to steer it in the direction she desired.

  “You're right,” Bonnie said. Even now, hours later, her lips still tingled from his kiss; she could still taste him. The musky scent of his cologne still invaded her senses. It turned her on to the point that she wanted to touch herself. How fucked up was that?

  “Your words are saying one thing, but something tells me, you're thinking something else entirely,” Jill said.

  “Really. Chad's no big deal. I've forgotten him already. Chad who?”

  Jill laughed. “I've gone through a few serious rebounds, but you've set the bar high with this one.”

  Bonnie had been so engrossed in her hormonal drama that she forgot to ask Jill about her own romantic conquests.

  “So dish. The guy from HC Lounge?” Bonnie remembered the man in the business suit who couldn't take his eyes off Jill.

  “You mean, Dean— “

  “Interesting, he has a name,” Bonnie said.

  “—aka Mr. Hit-and-Run?”

  “How's that?” Bonnie asked. There had been few situations that hadn't worked out in Jill's favor.

  “The asshole wanted a public threesome.”

  Bonnie's voice wobbled. “Whoa. That’s a new one.” She swallowed. “Obviously a no-no. So what'd you tell him?”

  “I told the jerk there was no way I was about to let two guys have their way with me. I barely knew him and he expected to share me with his friend? Hell no.”

  “Sounds like a piece of work,” Bonnie said. “I'm glad you kicked him to the curb.”

  “Well, I did end up calling him,” Jill said, sheepishly.

  “Oh.” Bonnie noted the dejected slant in Jill's tone.

  “But he didn’t pick up!” Jill said, annoyed.

  “Sounds like a real prick. You're off better without him.”

  “Then he called me…”

  Bonnie waited for it.

  “And we’re kind of back on again,” Jill said. “I know what you thinking, you don't have to say it… sounds like a dick.”

  Bonnie didn't like the sound of the guy, but tried not to be too judgmental when it came to poor choices. Her own monumentally poor choices, specifically, the two passionless years shared with Henry, loomed over her as a reminder that she wasn’t perfect. And yet, Bonnie had to add her two cents.

  “So, let me get this straight. You declined his outlandish proposal for a threesome, he gives you the cold shoulder with no explanation, and when he calls you, you go running?”

  “Pretty much, yeah,” Jill replied. She sighed.

  “And here I thought you couldn't possibly find a guy as bad as Chad. Just be careful, Jill.” Bonnie knew not to push the issue. Personal experience taught Bonnie that Jill would have to come to see things on her own. Relationships were about taking risks and learning from your mistakes.

  "And if he pulls any crap, then fuck him. I won't have anything more to do with the fucker,” Jill said in a determined tone. “For now, I've decided to give him another chance.”

  “Okay, I won't badger you over it. But I have to go now, I've been laying in bed most of the day. And I'll be back next week,” Bonnie said.

  “Fine, we can have lunch and catch up then. Now go and kiss your new boyfriend!” Jill hung up before Bonnie could reply.

  Bonnie groaned. She lay in bed for a few minutes, then, opening her computer, she returned to the article to write a few more words about Chad:

  It was Sylvia Plath who wrote, “Kiss me, and you will see how important I am.”

  He wanted me, and in some ways I wanted him. But there was no connection, no reciprocity, no sharing of a moment. He was selfish. You will see how I rejected him with a final strong push. But my reaction wouldn't have been so easy if there was intimacy, or any feelings other than lust…

  Bonnie paused. The words she had just written were a lie, yet she couldn't deny that even in the most public of acts, when Chad kissed her in front of the world, she had felt a certain level of intimacy.

  Bonnie looked at the article as a project doomed for failure and it wasn’t long before she was browsing the net. She told herself that she wouldn't look at anything involving the show, but that was impossible. Surfing the net while trying to avoid the show was like a recovering kleptomaniac visiting a hoarder's house with the intention of leaving empty-handed.

  Bonnie checked Win a Filthy Bad Boy’s Twitter page. She rubbed her temples as if she were experiencing the onset of a migraine. It was trending on Twitter:

  That kiss drove me wild! #ChadKiss

  The kiss had gone viral.

  Frustrated and tired of seeing people dissect her love life, Bonnie decided to check her emails, where she saw yet another pair of messages from Johnny.

  To: Bonnie Jensen

  From: Johnny Walker

  Subject: Seeing Clearly

  Wow, Chad can be such an asshole!

  We spent an hour before work discussing the show.

  Truthfully, Trish, Dawn and Mia have already given up hope on you. We know you've already been sucked in by Chad's charms and it's too late.

  Even Al has started watching. Lunchtimes, we watch repeats and Al curses at Chad's antics more than anyone. To be honest, I thought you'd have more sense than to trust a guy like Chad. From what I gather, most viewers see you as simply too naïve, so they are rooting for you, but I have to be straight with you. I’m so disappointed. You really can’t be that naïve, can you?

  That's not meant to guilt trip, by the way. I’m just letting you know that I'm not the typical viewer who's going to eat up everything they see. As such, I've resolved not to watch the season finale, no matter what. I just can’t watch you get hurt.

  --JW

  To: Bonnie Jensen

  From: Johnny Walker

  Subject:

  I confess. I watched it.

  OMG!!

  --JW

  ***

  Bonnie ordered a fluffy egg white omelet, loaded with bacon, mushrooms, cheese, and fresh spinach. She also ordered French-pressed coffee. The name of the game was detox.

  Until this point, during the cruise, her breakfasts had involved indulgence to the point of decadence—pieces of bacon or scrambled eggs, buttermilk waffles with a peach topping, or blueberry pancakes. All served in bed.

  Or dinner dates that involved some of the richest and calorie loaded foods she had ever tasted. This always resulted in guilt-ridden walks to the scale, which left her feeling like crap.

&n
bsp; She wore a white t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops down to the ship’s café. An aroma of fresh coffee pervaded the café. It was small and cozy—couches, cushions, the kind that looked Victorian Velvet. There was a warm and tucked-away feel as customers chatter quietly. Brightly lit chandeliers added to the pleasant atmosphere.

  Bonnie took a seat. “Wow, this is nice,” she said to nobody in particular, then brought out her computer and began to write. She didn't mind that she was alone; being away from Chad, in this setting, had done more to ease the sexual frustration she'd been wrestling with since she last slept with him.

  But her peaceful breakfast was interrupted by the opening of the café door. Bonnie dropped her fork and turned towards the commotion that exploded into the room. Of course, Chad made his entrance and walked toward her, as a camera crew followed him.

  Seeing him, Bonnie lowered her gaze in a futile act that did nothing at all to stop his advance. She was instantly aware of the jealous glances of every single girl as he passed their table and made his way over to her.

  Coming over to her table, Chad settled into the plush chair across from her and grabbed the menu. He wore shorts and a tank top that flaunted his arms. Bonnie wondered if a good-looking guy such as him ever had to suffer for inheriting the hotness gene. Clearly not, as he practically oozed confidence.

  After the waitress took his order, he thanked her and flashed a smile that clearly caught her off guard. All it took was for him to say her name, which was tagged on her uniform, to have her spinning awkwardly into the cruel and unforgiving furniture, which engineered her fall.

  Wincing in sympathy, Bonnie ran to the fallen girl. She squatted next to her to check if the girl—Angela, was alright. Luckily, she she seemed to be okay. Still, it didn’t prevent Bonnie from blaming Chad for the chaos. Things had a way of going haywire whenever he was around.

  Bonnie helped Angela to her feet when Chad’s powerfully lean figure sank down to a crouch, setting him level with Bonnie. She couldn't avoid the way his gaze dipped to her shirt or more accurately, her breasts. Then he drew his eyes to her lips and back to her eyes again. His grin screamed trouble.

  “Thank you,” Angela said, causing Chad to drag his eyes away from Bonnie. Together Chad and Bonnie helped Angela to her feet and she hurried off to get Chad's breakfast order. Bonnie and Chad returned to their table and took their seats.

  He sat back, sipping from a glass of water, while his eyes continued to trail a reckless path down Bonnie's body, causing her to feel naked in spite of her clothing.

  “Someone had a little too much to drink last night… yes?” Bonnie asked, raising her eyebrows, indicating she wanted Chad to play along for the cameras.

  Chad chuckled dryly and shook his head. “No.” The shimmering in his eyes melted her like butter.

  Bonnie's gazed darted sideways to the cameras pointed at them. The more time she spent around Chad, the more she became accustomed to his supreme self-confidence. Bonnie shook her head slowly, inhaled, and tried to keep cool.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yep.”

  “Today's the last day. We’re back on land this afternoon.”

  “Yep.”

  Bonnie frowned. “I see we’re not going to have much of a conversation.”

  “What do you want me to say? You know, we could've had breakfast in bed if you'd come to my room last night.”

  "After just one kiss? I don't think so,” Bonnie said and wrinkled her nose at him. She instantly felt like a fraud. But she couldn't let the world know they had slept together.

  “You’re the one who couldn't take the heat. I was prepared to go all the way.”

  “Well, it's a good thing I'm not interested in exhibitionism or voyeurism,” Bonnie said, lowering her eyes to her plate, as she tried to hide her reddening face.

  “Yeah, and neither am I. I want you for my eyes only.”

  She wondered if he’d completely lost his mind. Admitting that in front of the cameras could destroy his brand. “Chad, is there anything you wouldn’t say to get into my pants?”

  “I want more than to get into your pants,” he replied.

  “I never took you for the kind of guy who'd drink so early—”

  “I’m not drunk.” His tarnished silver eyes bore into the recesses of her body. His boldness, a reckless glitter that aroused her, and their intensity sapped her will to resist him.

  “Then you've lost your damn mind,” Bonnie said.

  Chad smiled, but before he could respond, Angela brought his breakfast. He thanked her. Bonnie sipped her coffee, while Chad ate. Since the night they slept together, she found she constantly pondered over the man who now sat across from her. Even the way he ate breakfast seemed sexy.

  Still, Bonnie suspected Chad wasn't a man who valued the women he took to bed. How could he? There were so many. She was just another woman in an endless lineup of women who'd, for one reason or another, had caught his eye.

  It did make her curious what sort of woman could win his heart, cause him lose his cool, cause him to behave foolish in spite of himself. One thing was for certain… she wasn't that woman.

  “I want to do something special for our last night,” he said.

  “They already have dinner planned for us,” Bonnie said, looking at the cameras. Intrigue filled her eyes, but her voice was calm. “And after how you behaved last night, I can't say I'm too trusting about anything special you want to do.”

  “I'm hurt that you'd say that, Bonnie,” Chad said. “Tell me, how exactly did I behave?”

  “Like an animal,” Bonnie said without hesitation.

  “And you didn’t like it one bit?” he asked.

  Bonnie paused. Then she said, “no,” but she waited a moment too long to respond.

  “Liar,” he said. “I think you liked it.”

  “No way.”

  “And I think you're scared to admit it. Even to yourself.”

  “I'm not scared to admit anything,” Bonnie said, incredulously.

  “Then go ahead. Admit it,” Chad said, wiggling his eyebrows. “You're a good kisser, you know that?”

  Bonnie flinched at the challenge in his tone. “There's nothing to admit.” She hated the kiss, recalling how her lips throbbed from his assault. “It was inappropriate.”

  “I'm sorry,” he said, too quick to be genuine. “It was inappropriate. That's why I want to make it up to you. So how about it?”

  “It's the last day of the show. We've practically butted heads the whole time we’ve been here. I can’t possibly—”

  “At least say you'll think about it,” Chad said.

  Bonnie let out a sigh. “Fine. I'll think about it.”

  There was no way she would go along with whatever he had planned. As fun as the Chad roller coaster had been, it had to end. He was all about adventure, the thrill of the chase, or simply offering up his services. Bonnie wondered what price she’d pay in the long run for his services. The cost of the unbridled passion, the ultimate sexual experience, was to have her body so replete with desire for him that she literally ached in pain for his touch.

  “You'll think about it, good. That's all I needed to hear,” Chad said. He sat back and rested his hands at the back of his head.

  “Harrumph!” A throat cleared noisily.

  Bonnie turned to the source of the interruption: Leslie. She stood with her hands on her hips.

  “Are you finished? The cameras were switched off an hour ago,” Leslie said as she stared at Bonnie, her voice practically filled with contempt.

  Bonnie picked up on Leslie’s look of scorn. It became immediately obvious to her that Chad must have slept with Leslie at some point. Bonnie shifted in her seat, steeling her jaw against the surging irritation at the thought of Chad and Leslie.

  Why do I care what he chooses to do with his cock? Bonnie thought.

  Leslie sauntered to Chad, who remained sitting. She traced a finger over his shoulder. “After you have your simulated date, why
don't you come over to the hall? The executives are arranging a small cocktail party for after the cruise to celebrate a successful show.”

  That did it. Bonnie shot to her feet, weaved her way through the camera crew, customers, and café staff, and slipped out of the door without so much as a look over her shoulder.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Jensen! Glad to hear from you. How's the article coming along?” Al Gibson asked on the other end of the phone. His voice was full of vim.