The Bad Boy CEO

by Sugar Jamison

  “How do I feel?” His eyes searched her face again as if he was trying to pull the answer from her mind.

  “You’re hard.” His eyes sharpened at her comment, causing her to swallow. “I mean, your body is hard. All over, like you live in the gym.”

  “I don’t deprive myself of anything.” He bit into his chicken. “If I want it, I have it,” he said, and it made her wonder if they were still talking about food. It didn’t matter, though. Colt King was a man who always got what he wanted.

  “Eat your food, Zanna. It’s getting cold.”

  She hadn’t realized that her food sat in front of her untouched. She was starving when she got home from work today, but as soon as she sat down at the table next to him her hunger evaporated. It wasn’t like her. She had dated. She liked men. She felt at ease around them. Even scary-looking Duke she found easy to be around, but Colt was another story. He made her stomach feel all knotty. It was ridiculous. He was just another man. A man who’d seen more of her body in the last few days than any other man had in years. He was the man who barged into home and work and bedroom without warning.

  Maybe that’s why Colt bugged her. Men were always pretty predictable to her, easy to read, but not Colt. She never knew what was going on in that head of his, she never knew what he was thinking, and it was damn disconcerting.

  She dug into her food and ate quietly for a few minutes, but couldn’t take the silence. Colt didn’t seem to mind it. He ate quietly and unhurriedly, like it was normal for them to dine together, like they had been doing this for years.

  “I used to cook, too, you know. My grammy taught me when I was little. People think Native Americans eat mostly maize and beans and game we hunt ourselves, but we go to the supermarket just like everybody else. At least my people do. My granddaddy had a special fondness for those little cheesy puff things and there isn’t a damn thing natural about those.”

  “I knew you were good with a shotgun but I didn’t think you hunted every meal yourself.”

  “I could hunt. My granddaddy taught me how to shoot. He didn’t believe in hunting for sport even thought I grew up in an area with a lot of hunters, but he said I should be able to handle a gun as well as any man. And I can, you know. I could outshoot most of the boys in my school.”

  “You’re not somebody who enjoys silence, are you?”

  His question took her by surprise, even though she knew she was babbling. He could read her and she never thought she was that easy a mark. “No. I’m a hairstylist. My days are filled with chattering women. I’m not used to quiet.”

  “I would think you’d welcome silence even more after spending your days like that.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I was an only child, and when I didn’t live with my grandparents, I lived in Tulsa with my mama. She worked a lot and when she wasn’t at work she was with whoever was her boyfriend at the moment. I was alone a lot. The house was quiet. I hate quiet houses. I have a hard time living alone.” She hadn’t meant to spill that last piece of information, but it was true. It was probably why she had latched on to Bruno. There were always people around when she was with him. Family, he called them. She found out too late that they weren’t the type of family she had pictured in her mind when she thought of the word.

  “I grew up with Levi,” Colt said, taking her mind away from her ex. “I don’t think I knew what quiet was until I moved out. My condo is very quiet now, even though it’s right on the Strip.”

  “Do you like the quiet?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Do you want me to stop talking?”

  “No.” He took another bite of his food. “Sometimes I hate silence, too.”

  *

  The next morning Colt headed to the salon early again. He still had years’ worth of bills and papers to sort through. Lolly’s office was one big filing cabinet. There was no bookkeeping at all from what he could see. No point-of-sales system. No balancing of the checkbook. He was tempted to call in his forensic accountant to sort this mess out, but Lolly had asked for his time.

  “I was expecting you this morning. Kept a fork by my bedside. I was all ready to stab you with if you stepped foot in my room.” Zanna walked into the office with her thick hair piled high on her head. He loved her long hair down around her shoulders, but seeing it up did something to him. As a whole package she was smoking hot, but with her hair out of her face and her striking features on display, he could see how truly beautiful she was. How perfectly her lips were shaped, how high her cheekbones were. He could imagine himself kissing her there. Normally the last place he would imagine kissing a woman was her cheek, but he could see himself running his lips over the curve of hers, savoring her soft skin. He would then move down to her neck, which wasn’t long or graceful, but looked like something he wouldn’t mind burying his nose in. Inhaling that fresh scent of hers, lingering there while his hands ran up her body.

  “You worked hard yesterday,” he said, forcing himself to speak. The truth was, he’d stayed out of her room because he found her too tempting. He had spent most of the day sporting the world’s biggest hard-on because of her. He couldn’t afford to go through that again today, and he sure as hell didn’t trust himself not to touch her. That little voice in his head was egging him on, telling him to do all the things he’d thought about doing to her since he first saw her. He couldn’t afford to do that. He liked to be completely in control of his sexual encounters. When, where, and how he wanted it. On his terms. With Zanna he knew that would all fly out the window. “You have four clients today. All of them heading for the Firemen’s Association ball. You needed to rest.”

  “How did you know that?” She blinked at him.

  “I checked your appointment book. I then had Annie call and ask them if there was anything we could do here to make their visit more special.”

  “You called my clients?”

  “No. Annie called them. Two of the women would like their eyebrows done. Three of them want pedicures, and one would like her lip waxed.”

  He saw that spark light in her eyes and immediately and unwillingly his heart beat a little faster. She turned him on the most when she was all hyped up.

  “You have to upsell, Zanna, if you want to bring more profit in. Those women will be leaving the shop spending thirty-five percent more than they would have otherwise.”

  “Well, that’s all fine and dandy, but have you considered who is going to perform those services?” She walked all the way into the room and stopped right in front of the desk. “I have never given a pedicure in my life and don’t plan on starting today, even if I did want to scrub some strange woman’s feet. We aren’t set up for it. There are none of those fancy pedicure chairs here. We don’t keep nail polish on hand. How the hell do you expect us to pull this off and why couldn’t you have at least given me the common courtesy of asking before you decided to offer more services?”

  He had planned to tell her last night. He had gone into the kitchen with the express purpose of telling her. But she distracted him. With first the meal and then the conversation. He had been to the finest restaurants Vegas had to offer, but he couldn’t think of a meal he had enjoyed more than her crispy buttermilk fried chicken and those creamy mashed potatoes. He also couldn’t remember the last time he had a conversation with anybody about anything besides work. Zanna did most of the talking. She never seemed to run out of words to say. Normally he found incessant speaking grating, but not with Zanna. He liked the way her Oklahoma-flavored voice filled the room and made the empty house seem less so. He liked hearing her ramble on about her grandfather and what life was like on a reservation. He had learned that parts of her childhood had been idyllic, but other parts sad. He could relate to that. His childhood had never been happy. He had never really been happy.

  “Well, aren’t you going to say something?”

  “Peggy said she’d be willing to take on the manicures and pedicures. When I was a kid, I saw her put a full nativity scene on a
woman’s nails. I think she can manage a few coats of polish.”

  “What about the waxing? I don’t wax. I tweeze and thread. I’m not comfortable about putting anything scalding hot on someone’s skin.” She folded her arms over her chest, and her lips went pouty. It was taking all of Colt’s strength not to get out from behind the desk and kiss her again.

  “Can you thread a lip?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then you’ll do that. I know for a fact that the only reason that the shop is going to be full today is because the casino salon is fully booked. It is imperative that these women come back again. Repeat business is the best business. So today we are going to give those women the best salon experience they can have and at a lower cost.”

  “But—”

  “Do you want this place to succeed or not?”

  “I do, but—”

  “Is it or is it not your job as head stylist to do everything in your power to ensure that it happens?”

  “Yes! Can I speak now, Mr. Dictator, sir? Or are you going to keep acting like a world-class asshole and continue to cut me off.”

  “Yes, servant. You may speak.” The naughty-little-boy voice in his head made him say that just to get a reaction out of her. Zanna did not fail him.

  She marched around the desk, eyes blazing, hands extended. “You slimy rat bastard. Who are you calling a servant?”

  She got one good hard pinch in before he caught her hands and pulled her into his lap. “Relax!” He found himself laughing as he wrapped his arms around her to prevent her from further attacking him. “I would never have you as my servant. You’re too mouthy.”

  She looked up at him. Her eyes were losing their fire but taking on a look that was far more interesting. “Let go of me,” she said, clearly realizing how close they were in that moment. Her plush bottom fit perfectly in his lap, and the rest of her body seemed to have aligned perfectly with his. Their faces were close again, their lips just inches apart.

  He did as she asked, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. She shook her head and exhaled before she leaned in and kissed him. Her hands cupped his face, her mouth opened over his. It was a sweeter kiss than before. She tasted sweeter and hotter, if that was possible. Her tongue worked in his mouth in a way that he could only describe as so good it was acutely painful.

  His dick sprang to life again, begging for relief from the tension she caused, but there were just too many layers of clothes between them. He needed to feel her skin. So he slid his hands up her shirt, touching her back and waist, up and under the band of her bra. It wasn’t enough. He wanted to be closer, wanted to feel more skin, so he undid her bra and brought one of his hands up to cup her breast. She wriggled in his lap, spurring him on. He ran his thumb across her nipple, which was already a tight, hard peak. She moaned into his mouth. It was the sexiest sound he had ever heard, and he knew that he wouldn’t die a happy man unless he heard that sound again.

  “Enough,” she whispered as she broke the kiss. It was only a moment, though. She set her lips against his, but lightly this time. “No more,” she said with her eyes shut. Her head came to rest against his shoulder and for a long time they just sat like that.

  He was incredibly aroused and uncomfortable because of it, but somehow she felt right nestled in his lap.

  “I promised myself that that wasn’t going to happen today.”

  “Why did you do it? Why did you kiss me?”

  “Because I’ve never seen a man more beautiful when he smiles.”

  He didn’t know how to take her words. No one had ever said anything to him like that.

  “Now get your hand off my boob and do my bra back up.” She glanced at the clock on the wall as he did what she said. “We’ve got two hours to go shopping before my first client gets here.”

  “Shopping?”

  “We don’t have any of the supplies for the new services you’re offering. How the hell do you expect us to pull this off?”

  “Why do you need me to go with you?”

  “Your idea. You’re paying for it.”

  Chapter 7

  Zanna glanced over at Colt as she drove to the big-box department store a few towns over. At first she was surprised when he handed over the keys to his ultra-luxurious SUV, which probably cost more than all the houses she had lived in put together. But he wanted her to drive. Said he didn’t know where it was, but she could tell he was uncomfortable. Pained looking.

  He had grown aroused as soon as she had started to kiss him. It gave her a little charge feeling him grow beneath her, knowing she had that kind of effect on him. But glancing over at him right now, she almost felt sorry for him. Because she was aroused, too. The heat in her belly, the throbbing between her legs hadn’t stopped yet. Made worse because he was still next to her. She could still smell his scent and feel the warmth of his skin. Every time she glanced at his hands she would remember how amazing they felt as they stroked up her body, how his thumb expertly stroked across her nipple, seducing her with such little effort.

  “You want to tell me what you’re thinking about, champ?” She lightly tapped his knee.

  He wiped his hand over his face. “You don’t want to know.”

  “I think I do.”

  “I was thinking about having sex with you. I was thinking about having you pull onto the side of the road, ripping off your pants, and asking you to ride me until neither one of us can see straight. But it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex in a car and an even longer time since I’ve had sex in a car in broad daylight, and at thirty-three I’m wondering if I’m too old for that.” He reached out and grabbed the wheel. “You’re drifting into another lane.”

  “Sorry,” she said, snapping her attention back on the road. “You just can’t say things like that to me.”

  “Then you shouldn’t ask me what I’m thinking. And I don’t think I need to remind you that you started this.”

  “I did not!”

  “You did, too. You stuck your tongue in my mouth.”

  “You pulled me into your lap.”

  “Only because you attacked me.”

  “You called me a servant.”

  “Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words will never hurt you. You really need to use your words and not your hands to express yourself.”

  “What?” Laughter bubbled up inside her. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  He smiled again, and it was just as striking as the last time. It hit her in the chest. Really, it was just like a good chocolate cake. She wanted more and more of it.

  “My second-grade teacher used to say that to me all the time.”

  “Why, Colt King, are you telling me you used to fight in school?”

  “Everybody thinks Duke is the badass, but I had a temper.”

  “What were you so mad about?”

  “They called us trash. We were piss-poor, but we were just as good as the rest of them and I used my fists to show them that.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that. She had a hard time picturing anybody treating Colt as less than. The way he walked and talked and held himself exuded confidence. Power.

  Money couldn’t have done all that for him. Colt had to know he was something a long time ago to get where he was.

  She pulled off the empty highway and into the parking lot of the only big store they had in the area. It was full of cars as it always was, even this early in the morning. There wasn’t much to do in this part of Nevada for the locals. The Shop and Box with its attached diner was a place where people spent the day.

  “When did they put this here?” Colt asked as he grabbed a cart and headed inside ahead of her.

  “I don’t know. It was here when I moved here. I guess it’s been here awhile.” She followed him for a moment until she realized that he was going in the opposite direction of where they needed to be.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Macho. I know you like to lead, but do you have any idea where you are
going?”

  He looked back at her. “I figured we’d stumble on it eventually.”

  “Just like a man not to ask for directions.” She rolled her eyes. “Make a left at the greeting cards, and then a right at the tires.”

  “Tires? They sell tires in here?”

  “Yup, and couches. Small pets and fresh fruit and veggies.”

  Colt looked truly perplexed by this. “All in one store?”

  “All in one store. I bet you’ve never been in a store like this before.” She grinned at him. “And the word discount makes your skin crawl.”

  “We didn’t have this place when I was growing up. We got our groceries from Lindstrom’s Market and our clothes from the thrift store until Lolly took us in. Then she let us order them from catalogs. I thought I was hot shit the first time I got clothes that came in the mail.”

  “Now all your clothes are custom-made, aren’t they? You probably have a tailor at your beck and call. And a valet to bathe you.”

  “I keep a seamstress locked in my basement,” he said with a straight face. “As for my valet … I’m between valets at the moment. The last one looked me in the eye while he shaved me and I had him removed.”

  He didn’t look like he had any sense of humor at all, but Colt made her laugh. It had been a long time since any man made her feel the way he did. “I like it when you tease me, Colt King.”

  He stopped pushing the cart and turned around, not giving her the chance to blink before he pulled her into his hard body and held her close. “You have no idea all the ways I would like to tease you, Zanna Jacobs.” He spoke with his lips on her ear at first, then gently pulled on her lobe with his teeth. The warmth from his breath, the slight bite from his teeth, the shock of him doing it right there in front of the birthday cards made her want to melt into a puddle of goop on the floor.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  He swiftly kissed her lips and then let her go as if nothing had happened. “I wonder if they sell King’s Customs apparel in here.” He pushed the cart again. “They should. We’re in other discount stores. I’ll have my people get in contact with their buyer.”