Beauty and the Bad Boy

by Scarlett Dupree

  She didn't like lying, but she'd agreed to make up a story about the university covering the cost of our room and her having hotel membership points to cover Dixon and Tiffany's.

  It was a nice enough hotel that the staff was put off by the tattooed bikers in our leathers and wallet chains, but it was also nice enough that they were too professional to be too obvious about their contempt. Just enough to make sure we felt it.

  Walking away from the desk after we got checked in, Dixon and I exchanged an irritated glance, but Dakota let loose her perverse sense of humor. She dropped her pack, jumped into my arms, and wrapped herself around me, right in the middle of the atrium. Then she laid a serious kiss on me. She took me by surprise, but I grabbed onto her ass and went along for the ride.

  When she was done, she jumped off me, grabbed her pack, turned and smiled at the bemused desk agent, and sauntered off to the elevators, the buckles up the sides of her boots jingling faintly. I laughed at the thought that my sassy, badass girl was a millionaire lecturer, here to give a speech. I wondered what the snooty desk agent would think about that.

  Our rooms were adjoining, but we kept the connecting doors closed, agreeing to take some private time and then head out for some grub in a couple of hours. It was a pretty sweet room, not extravagant, but with a king-size bed and a small balcony overlooking the ocean. Dakota opened the balcony door and stepped out. She leaned over the railing and watched the waves rolling against the beach.

  I just watched her ass. Nothing out there was as beautiful as Dakota's ass.

  I walked up behind her, grabbed her hips, and pulled her against me. This had been the first sexual thought I'd ever had about her, and it still felt like a fantasy every time I actually did it. I was rock hard–from the ride, from that hot damn kiss downstairs, and from watching her lean over the railing. My cock was throbbing. When Dakota shifted her hips to rub back and forth against me, I grunted and pressed more firmly to her.

  She turned around, rubbing against me all the way. I slid my hands from her hips around and up her back, up to her head, bringing her tight against me as I threaded my fingers into her silky hair. I leaned down, and she looped her arms tight around my neck. I covered her mouth with mine and groaned when our tongues met.

  I stood up straight as we kissed, pulling her onto her toes. I felt her hands under my beanie, in my hair, pressing my head to hers. I slid my hands down her soft back and over her ass until I could clutch her thighs and pull her all the way off the ground. When she wrapped her legs around me, I turned and walked us back into the room.

  The bed was covered with crap–our backpacks, her jacket, my jacket–and I didn't want to stop touching any part of her to make room. So I brought us down to the floor. She pulled off my beanie. I pushed up onto my hands and looked down at her. She was panting and flushed, her lips red and made even fuller by our kiss. Jesus, she was the epitome of beautiful.

  She pulled at the hem of my shirt, and I yanked it over my head and threw it to the side. I closed my eyes with a groan as she trailed her fingernails over my chest. I sat back on my heels, and her legs fell from my waist to rest on either side of me. I slowly undid the little pearl buttons of her white cotton shirt, pulling the hem from her jeans as I went. Her bra hooked in the front; Dakota arched her back when I released the clasp with one hand.

  I bent over her and pressed my lips to one lovely nipple and then the other. Dakota moaned and laced her hands into my hair, holding me close. I suckled her until she was gasping and writhing under me. She whimpered, "Please, Jake!" I pulled away and sat back, and she whimpered, flexing her hips towards me. I pushed her back down to the carpet with one hand, inching it down to rest my palm against the mound between her legs. I could feel her heat through her jeans. I closed my eyes again and fought for control.

  I ran my other hand down her boot, from her knee to her ankle, feeling each buckle lightly graze my palm. I pulled it off, and then did the same with the other. At the same time, Dakota unbuckled her belt and undid her jeans. I tossed her second boot aside and lifted her legs up to rest on my shoulders. I grabbed her waistband and pulled her jeans and thong off in one move, tossing them behind me. I looked down the length of her thighs to the point where they joined. She was glistening wet. "Jesus, Dakota."

  She flexed her hips and moaned. "Come on, then, Bad Boy. I'm waiting."

  I eased her legs back down, one on either side of me, and undid my own jeans before I stretched out on top of her. She brought her legs up right away and used her heels to push my jeans off my ass. She reached between us and grabbed my cock; I grunted as she squeezed and pulled gently, guiding me to her. I kissed her hard as I thrusted fully into her in one long, strong move. She tore her mouth away, arching back with a gasp.

  "You feel so incredible…" I said.

  On the ride down, I'd entertained an image of slow, sweet, softly lit sex in a nice hotel, but here we were on the floor, and any thought of going slow or easy fled my mind as her muscles clamped around my cock and she thrust her hips up hard.

  Dakota didn't often have the patience for sweet sex, and right now I didn't have the patience to calm her. I chuckled, but it came out more like a groan. "Okay, tiger. Let's go," she said. I pulled almost all the way out of her and slammed back. She cried out, and I felt her nails digging into my arms.

  Then she pushed on my shoulders. I knew what that meant. I rolled us over, bringing her on top. She pushed herself upright, and I grabbed her hips as she surged on me, her nails biting into my pecs. I watched her face as she rocked, and she held my eyes with hers. Finally, she closed her eyes, her hips moving hard and fast, and I bent my legs and rocketed my hips against hers. She arched back and screamed, her nails drawing sharp lines down my chest. I sat up and picked up my own tempo, coming at last with a long, hoarse grunt.

  Panting hard, I relaxed back onto the floor, and pulled her with me to my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. "Welcome to San Diego," she said against my skin.

  When I woke the next morning, I sensed immediately that I was alone in the room. I lifted my head and looked around. It wasn't even 7:00 AM yet. There was a note on Dakota's pillow, 'ON THE BEACH'. My lips quirked up. She'd drawn a heart in the corner of the hotel notepaper. I sat up, stretched, and ran my hands through my hair.

  On my way to the bathroom, I grabbed my jeans from the floor near the door, smiling at the memory of bringing a quite pleasantly drunk Dakota back to the hotel after our night with Tiffany and Dixon on the boardwalk. If she'd had her way, I would have lost these jeans in the elevator, while Dixon and Tiffany watched.

  I was surprised that she was up and out so early. Then again, I'd never known her to be hung over. She didn't get drunk often, but she never seemed to feel any ill effects when she did. Not from the booze, anyway.

  I left the bathroom and walked out onto the balcony. The morning air was a little cool on my bare chest, but warmer than I'd expected. The hotel's beach was private and almost empty except for a couple of runners. And Dakota.

  She was about ten feet or so from the surf, on packed sand, about fifty feet from me, standing on what looked like a hotel towel, wearing snug white knit pants and a light purple, long-sleeved t-shirt. She was doing yoga. I watched, entranced, as her lithe, lovely body moved fluidly through a long series of complicated positions. I'd never seen her do yoga before. I wished I was closer, but I also liked getting this sense of her in a private moment.

  Watching her body bend and fold and balance, I understood why we'd yet to try a sexual position she couldn't handle. She could make her body do whatever she wanted. I watched as she arched into a deep back bend and held it. Then she kicked her legs over, ending in a split. Jesus. She leaned on her arms and swung her legs out somehow, laying her chest on the ground, her legs spread out fully to either side. I was really starting to wish she'd get back to our room.

  Instead, she folded her legs and rested her hands on her knees, her back rod straight. She sat there, p
erfectly still, for a long time. Meditating, I supposed. I felt like I probably should stop watching her, but I found myself fixated on the vision of Dakota facing the Pacific, alone on the beach, the morning sea breeze making her ponytail dance across her strong, straight back.

  After several minutes during which I was as still as she, she unfolded her legs and rose, bent at the waist, her face against her straight legs. She stood up and shook out her arms and legs, then grabbed the towel and headed back to the hotel. About halfway back, she looked up at the building, as if she were looking for me. She saw me and smiled broadly. I blew her a kiss, and she picked up her pace, trotting over the mounds of sand back to the hotel.

  I heard my phone ringing on the desk, so I went back into the room and grabbed it. Dixon. "Yeah, man," I answered.

  "We should be on the road by nine to make this meet. It's about seventy miles away. But Tiffany wants breaky." I looked at the alarm clock beside the bed: 7:30 AM.

  Dakota wasn't usually a breakfast eater; neither was I. The coffee in the room would suffice for us. "That's cool. Dakota's got her thing this morning. She's been working out, so she's not going to be ready to eat. You guys go ahead and get breakfast. We'll get together after. Just knock."

  "Cool, bro. See you soon."

  Dakota came in just as I snapped the phone shut. "Hey, babe. How was your workout?"

  "Really great. I love the ocean. I was kinda hoping you'd come down. Were you watching me?"

  I walked up and pulled her into my arms. "I was. Hope that's okay. I didn't want to interrupt you." I smiled. "But I sure did like watching." I leaned down and kissed her lightly, running my tongue over the contours of her full, sweet lips. She moaned softly.

  "I like that you were watching," she whimpered.

  I grabbed her ass and crushed her against me, increasing the ardor in our kiss. She matched me for a few too-brief seconds, but then she pulled back. "Forgive me, Bad Boy, but I need to rain check this morning. I need to shower and get dressed for my speech."

  "I could help you shower..."

  She laughed and ran her hands up my arms. "Help me? Huh. Well, I do have those hard to reach places." I swept her into my arms and carried her into the bathroom.

  Later, I lay naked on the bed, propped up against the headboard, and watched her dress for the conference. I'd never seen her dress like this before; it was odd. Even when she taught, she dressed like Dakota, but now she was wearing a uniform.

  Slim black skirt–it hugged her ass perfectly–black blazer, the shirt she'd been wearing when I first went to her house, plain black flats, and glasses. She wound her hair into a complicated braid. She still looked beautiful–how could she not? But she also looked like she could be selling real estate. "Why the getup, babe? Not really your style, is it?"

  "Nobody stuffier than an Archeologist, and this is a whole conference of us. They have enough trouble listening to someone like me–a woman, and too young to know anything, as far as they’re concerned. My research is cutting edge enough that they’re going to be looking for ways to attack me. If I wear my boots, they’ll dismiss me before I open my mouth.

  "At smaller conferences, maybe. We tend to be mellower. But this is a big international conference, and all the ass-hats come out for these. So, the uniform. When you walk through the hotel today, you'll see that all the women are dressed just like this."

  "Wait. Attack you? What do you mean?"

  She chuckled. "Not like you're thinking. Though the thought of all those old farts throwing down is hilarious. No, I mean verbally. I'm prepared for a whole lot of old men, and some young ones, too, to say shitty things about my work this morning. Maybe about me personally. When we really get going, who knows."

  I sat up. "What the hell?"

  She sat on the side of the bed and pushed me back against the headboard. "Don't get all He-man on me, Bad Boy. It's part of my world. I'm used to it. I'm prepared for it. I give better than I get. I'll shut them all down, don't worry. And then when my talk is over, I'm blowing off the rest of the conference and playing with my favorite man. So I'm good." She leaned over and kissed me. "But I have to go. I'll see you when you get back, okay? Make sure you look sexy for me, Jake."

  "Okay. Good luck. I love you."

  "I love you. Be safe."

  I laughed. "You too, apparently." She blew me a kiss and disappeared from my sight.

  ***

  The meet had gone smoothly. Thank fuck. Few things that had to do with the gang these days went as fucking planned. I had been a lot more worried about it than I'd let on to Dakota. After months of muling drugs for small time gangs, I had learned to expect blood with even the smallest job.

  No blood this time, though. Great work in a few hours. Dixon called Weston and shared the good news. Then we headed back to San Diego and our girls.

  It was getting late in the afternoon and summer-warm when we got back to the hotel. Their rooms were empty, but the note Dakota had left me in the morning was lying on the made bed, now with an extra heart. I called through the connecting door to Dixon. "I think they're on the beach."

  "Yeah, looks like it."

  I headed down in jeans and my usual fitted black top; neither Dixon nor I were really a beach kind of guy, especially not in unfamiliar territory. We found Dakota and Tiffany lying on two of the hotel's chaise lounges. Drinks with spears of fruit were sitting on a table between us. They were lying quietly, maybe napping. I grabbed Dixon's arm and we both stopped a few feet short and just took in the sight.

  My attention was naturally focused on Dakota. She was wearing that bikini she'd packed. It had a butterfly pattern in red, blue and white. It was practically microscopic, mostly string, with a few strategic triangles. Part of me hated that she was out in public wearing it, especially when I wasn't around, but that part of me was silenced by the rest of me, which was really lavishing up the view.

  "You guys just going to stand there and goggle at us?" That was Tiffany.

  Dakota opened her eyes and shielded them with her hand. "Tiff, I can see drool on my guy." They both laughed at me. "Hey, guys. How'd it go?"

  I lifted her legs, sat down on her lounge, and laid her legs across my lap. I ran both hands up and down the long, sleek muscles of her thighs. She stretched and flexed and made me think about untying those little strings right here. I groaned a little and turned it into a throat-clearing. "Smooth.” Like you. “How about your thing?"

  "Kicked ass. Changed lives. The usual from me." I grinned. She sat up and put her head on my shoulder. "Missed you."

  I put my arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "Missed you, too, babe." I turned and looked out over the Pacific. The Sun was lowering into the horizon. The breeze coming off the water was cool and salty. Dakota was in my arms. For a minute I let myself feel how great life was at the moment.

  I looked over at Dixon and Tiffany, who were making out pretty heavily. He didn’t last long. "So we have the rest of the day to ourselves, right? Do we want to go out?" I asked them. They looked at me, both a little flushed. I laughed. "Or would we rather not?"

  Tiffany smiled. "No, we should go out. See the city. Get some food."

  "Food sounds perfect," Dakota said. "The little wrap things they brought us out here didn't go very far."

  We went back to the hotel and cleaned up. Dakota and I showered together, but it was all about getting clean. Well, mostly. After I was dressed in clean jeans and a black button-up shirt, I sat in the chair near the balcony door and watched Dakota get ready. I ogled her ass as she bent over, wrapped in a towel, drying her hair with the hotel blow dryer. When it was dry, she tossed her head back and her shiny mass of dark waves cascaded down her back. She leaned back a little and shook her head to let her hair arrange itself; I always found that move incredibly sexy. I was suddenly wishing we were staying in.

  Watching her put her clothes on was almost as fascinating as watching her take them off. She knew she had an audience, and she was playing it up for my benefi
t. She eased a dark blue satin thong up her long legs, shimmying her ass at me as she settled it into place. Damn. Then a matching bra. She looked over her shoulder and winked at me. I wiggled my eyebrows back. She grabbed a fresh pair of jeans out of her pack and slid into them. They were my favorite pair: low rise, naturally worn and faded, and as soft as flannel. Fit her like a fucking glove. She pulled on her smokin’hot boots and straightened the boot cut legs of her jeans over them.

  She put on a plain khaki top on with a deep v-neck that hugged the curves of her breasts. I could vaguely see the tint and shape of her bra underneath. She tucked the shirt in and fed her thick gold belt into her jeans.

  She wore a little makeup. She hardly ever wore much; she never needed it. No jewelry except the ring I'd given her and a crystal-studded leather cuff Tiffany had given her. I wore way more jewelry than she did. I liked her unadorned–especially around her neck. She, on the other hand, loved my rings and leather and chains. "You ready to go, Bad Boy?"

  I tossed her jacket to her and grabbed my jacket. "Yeah. But, babe, you sure you’re not gonna be too cold in that?"

  "If I need to, I'll just slide in up close with you."

  I kissed her forehead. "I like that plan very much. Let's go. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get back here. Where your sure to be more than warm."

  ***

  I woke before dawn, thinking about my daughter. Once I realized that sleep was over for me, I sat up against the headboard and mulled. Dakota was sleeping next to me, curled up, her back against my side. She stirred slightly and made a small, sweet moan when I moved, then settled back into sleep. I put my hand on her side and watched her for a few minutes, drawing some peace from her easy rest.

  Today we were going to rent a car and drive to Riverside so Dakota could meet my daughter. I hadn't seen Ellie in over a year. I still called her every week, and sometimes we had good conversations, but mostly everything was strained and awkward. I wasn't looking forward to the day. I wasn't entirely sure why, but I felt resentful that Dakota had pushed so hard to meet her.