Property of the Bad Boy

by Vanessa Waltz

  SLAP!

  My hand rips across the side of his face and I feel the sting on my palm, breathing hard. His cheek flames red and then he turns back to me slowly.

  Why the fuck— What the hell are you DOING?

  Oh shit.

  Then my breath catches in my throat as he digs his fingers in my hair, his mouth closing in. My body responds automatically to him, like a switch. Hot lips crash against mine and he sucks my lip in his mouth, giving me a hard nip with his teeth.

  His other hand slides around my waist, pinning me to his rock-solid body. My heart flies in my chest like a bird. I can’t help it. His tongue plays with me, and my hands slide up his chest, over the powerful, flat muscles. Then he breaks away from me, and I feel like I’m falling.

  He loosens his hand from my hair and pushes it over my head so that I stumble down, catching his hips to break my fall. Then suddenly my mouth bumps against his thick cock and a tingle runs through my pussy.

  “Be a good girl and suck my cock.”

  Heat flares in my chest as a dark chuckle shakes from Jack’s mouth. He pulls down his sweats and his fully erect cock slides over my cheek. The hand at the back of my head pushes me so that I get a face full of dick. Fuck him, but it’s hot.

  I wrap my fingers around him and take him in my mouth as a small voice screams at me. This is fucked up. You shouldn’t be letting him treat you like this.

  He groans as he slides in my mouth. The pleasant taste of him fills my mouth as he grabs my hair and thrusts his hips.

  “Swallow every drop of cum, and maybe you’ll be lucky enough to become mine.”

  Asshole.

  I shouldn’t want to please this bastard, but then I take him in deep and he lets out a delicious moan that makes a pleasant wave run through my body. I grab his waist as he pumps into my mouth, making me gag as he buries himself. My tongue slides underneath him and swirls around his head. I love the feel of him inside me—the pulse of his heartbeat throbs in my mouth.

  “Look at me,” he says in a tight voice.

  I look up into his red face, which trembles with urgency. I tighten my lips around him as my skin burns with need. He shudders and digs his fingers in my hair, exhaling a soft curse. I gag on his cock and pull him out, feeling how thick he is in my hands. My mouth swallows him again, and he bends his knees to fuck my mouth hard and fast.

  “Take my fucking cum.”

  A thrill shoots up my chest as he buries himself deep enough to make me gag, holding himself there as he lets out a huge groan. My heart races as I realize what he’s about to do—I’ve never done it before. His cock jumps and my mouth fills with warm, salty cum. I swallow it down quickly as he pulls back slightly and thrusts again, another load filling my mouth. It’s fucking sloppy. How does he get me to do things I’ve never done with anyone else?

  He slips from my mouth and my stomach tenses when he bends down and grabs my arms, pulling me upright. I wipe my lips as a smile twitches on his relaxed face. My arousal pounds though my body as he takes my hands and leads me to the couch. He sits down and yanks me, the same way he took me when I first met him. I tumble in his lap with a gasp and his laughter falls over my ears. Jesus, he’s so warm. His head turns and his lips graze my forehead.

  “I’ve had a lot of girls chase after my cock, but none of them were quite this determined.”

  What the hell am I doing?

  “I’ve never done that with anyone.”

  “How did it feel?”

  Another edge of anger digs into me like a knife. “Is this what you plan to do to me when we’re married?”

  “Yes. Over and over again.”

  At least he’s honest.

  “So this marriage is going to be fake?”

  “Fake? You’re putting on my ring. You’ll be living in my house, sharing my bed.”

  The strangeness of it rings in my ears. Rough hands snake around my neck and jaw, forcing me to look into hungry eyes.

  “So basically you want me to be a live-in whore.”

  His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “You’ll be more than that.”

  It’s clear from looking at his expression that “more” isn’t that much. Great.

  “I need to take you to Johnny. Give me a minute to get dressed.”

  Johnny?

  “Now?”

  “Yep,” he says unhappily.

  My insides do a backflip as I think about the ruthless mob boss. He’s the same guy who killed and torched Julien, and left the burning corpse at our gate. My skin crawls when I remember seeing the blackened remains. It was retaliation, pure and simple, but it still made me sick to my stomach.

  Johnny scares the shit out of me.

  I stand up from the couch as I hear Jack retreat to his bedroom and strip from his clothes. The soft sound of them hitting the floor brings me a vivid image of his muscled body, covered in dark ink. I hang near the edge of his doorway and see a rich display of him tugging on a pair of black briefs over his amazing ass. Just the sight of his rippling arms and back makes my breath still.

  Then his dark head turns around impassively, as if he senses my presence.

  “I know I’m hot to look at and all, but it’s a little weird if you’re just standing there.”

  Damn him.

  “We don’t have to see Johnny. Just tell him I agreed to it.”

  Suspicion knits his eyebrows together as he walks to his closet and yanks out a fresh suit. He stares at me while shoving his legs through the slacks.

  “We have to go see him.”

  I’m speechless as he finishes dressing, clearly oblivious to the fact that my limbs are shaking.

  I follow him to the bathroom, where he’s tucking in his shirt and running a comb haphazardly through his hair. His eyes find mine through the mirror.

  “Please, Jack. I’m scared of him.”

  His expression doesn’t change. “You should be. He’s the devil.”

  * * *

  The drive to Le Zinc, Johnny’s notorious hangout, is torturous. Jack couldn’t care less about me, so all I can do is clench my thighs and try to will myself to not be such a fucking coward.

  Jack keeps shooting me glances filled with contempt.

  “He’s not going to touch you. If anything, he’ll kill me. Stop being such a baby.”

  Small fucking comfort.

  “Stop being such a jerk.”

  The car explodes with his laughter. It’s so startling that I jump in my seat, and I look over incredulously to see him grinning from ear to ear.

  “Bridget—”

  “Beatrice!”

  He smiles at me. “Beatrice, you’re overreacting. He’s not that bad.”

  I dig my nails into my knees. “You didn’t get a charred corpse at the doorstep of your home. You didn’t see it—”

  His tone turns nasty. “Spare me, okay? I don’t care about your beloved biker asshole. I don’t want to hear about it!”

  He’s such a goddamn prick.

  This is what my life is resigned to, I guess. Endless spats with a man who just wants to use me for my body. Seriously—he said it to my face.

  I try to hold it together and then he stops his car a block from the restaurant. He turns off the engine and gets out of the car without a second glance, but I’m frozen in my seat. Sharp raps against the glass startle me and then he opens the door, a dark glare on his face.

  “Let’s go. I don’t have time for this shit.”

  Calm the fuck down.

  But I can’t. The pressure between my eyes keeps building up. My life is a goddamn mess, and I’ve jumped into bed with a man who hates me. Who has a monster for a boss. My eyes burn and I keep them closed. My hands balls into fists. I dig my fucking nails into my skin.

  I feel him reach across to unbuckle my safety belt.

  “Please, Jack.”

  He relents, letting out a sigh. “Fearing men like John is pointless, sweetheart. If he wants you dead, you’re dead. There’s nothing you can do
about it. Nothing.”

  His hand lifts to my face and gently wipes away my tears. It’s the first time he’s done anything remotely nice to me. Somehow that makes me well up.

  “On my life, nothing will happen to you.”

  Like that means anything, coming from you.

  I slide my hand into his and he helps me up, closing the car door behind me.

  “It’ll be fine.”

  Jack rubs my back briefly and then steps away, because his compassion has limits, I guess.

  Le Zinc is a trendy place smack-dab in the hipster region of Montreal. Pristine white tablecloths cover every surface. Women in black cocktail dresses and pumps sit across from their dates in full view of the wide glass. Somewhere in that dark restaurant Johnny sits, surrounded by his entourage.

  Jack grabs my upper arm, my skin tingling with electricity as he brings me close. It’s as if he fears I’ll turn tail and run. The hostess opens the door and nods at Jack, clearly recognizing him.

  “Bienvenue, Jack.”

  “Bonsoir. Same place?”

  “Oui. Après vous.”

  The hostess wears a floor-length glittering gown with thousands of black sequins. I’m horribly out of place in my knee-high boots and jeans.

  His hand falls from my arm and I immediately miss it. Blood roars in my ears, the sound of the restaurant deafening. It’s packed with people, which makes me feel a hell of a lot better.

  Jack leads me away from the noise to a private room enclosed in glass. There he is, sitting at the far end of a long table with all of his captains. My heart squeezes with a sudden thrill when I see Maya, to his right. She cradles a baby in her arms. For a moment I stand there, watching the scene. Johnny’s face cracks with a handsome, incredibly warm grin as the baby returns a heart-melting smile. He leans over and gives the baby a peck and then he grabs the back of Maya’s neck and gives her a long, lingering kiss. She glows at him. God, they look happy. In love. It’s way more than I hoped for.

  “Come on.”

  Jack’s voice snaps me out of my trance and I follow him as he opens the door.

  Oh fucking hell. I don’t want to be here.

  A dozen or so men look up from their meals and stare at me with bored expressions, except Johnny, who stands up from the table with a grin that reminds me of sharks.

  “Johnny, sorry to disturb your supper.”

  He moves past me, leaving me at the far end of the table as he greets his boss with a kiss on both cheeks. Then he looks down the table at me and spreads his hands slightly.

  Fine.

  Stiffly I move down the table and Maya recognizes me, standing up with her baby.

  “Beatrice!”

  She ignores Johnny as she steps around him, her eyes already swimming with tears as she frees an arm to hug me. God, it’s been so long since I’ve seen her.

  “I’ve missed you.” I wrap my arms around her and swallow the lump in my throat. “Sorry, I wasn’t allowed to visit.”

  “I know,” she says in a tight voice. Maya pulls away and the baby’s fist wraps around my jacket, refusing to let go.

  “This is Matteo.”

  Every thread of resentment I have toward Maya dissolves into air like lingering smoke as I look into his beaming face.

  “Hi, Matteo!” I gently disengage his fist from my jacket, and he curls his fingers around my hand. “He’s so sweet. Can I hold him?”

  Maya nods, smiling widely, and then suddenly Johnny appears out of nowhere. Extreme distrust narrows his face and I back away from him, bumping into Jack’s solid chest.

  “Tommy, take my wife outside.”

  One of his captains, a lean, brutal-looking man, rises from his seat and nods.

  “Sorry, ladies. We have business to discuss.”

  My heart falls as Maya gives me an apologetic smile. “We’ll catch up later.”

  “Okay.”

  The joy from meeting my cousin’s baby fizzles like a firework dud.

  The mob boss gestures to his wife’s vacant seat. “Sit.”

  Jack takes Tommy’s place as the table resumes with conversation. He leans in over his boss’s plate.

  “She’s agreed to go through with it.”

  Johnny nods as he picks up his fork and eats his plate of pasta, giving me a wary glance.

  “I need you both to understand that the CSIS will suspect that this marriage is a sham.”

  “It is a sham.”

  “I know that, wiseass. They’ll have people undercover, watching you. If there’s even a shred of evidence, the whole fucking thing goes through. You will act like a couple. You will go on dates. We’ll have a wedding with all your family, the whole shebang.”

  My fingers curl into the white tablecloth as a sullen look comes over Jack’s face.

  This was not what he expected.

  “Not all the guests at the wedding will know.”

  “Jesus, John.”

  “What, you have a problem with this?”

  “Yeah, I have a fucking problem. I didn’t realize—”

  Johnny’s laughter cuts him off. “That what? You’re going to be married to her for years. I hope you can learn to stand each other.”

  From the look on his face, not bloody likely.

  He gives John a humorless smile. “Yeah. Fucking wonderful.”

  Years. We’ll have to spend years pretending we’re not miserable together. It almost makes me wish I had just taken a flight out of here.

  “Jesus. It’s not that bad.”

  “Really?” he snaps. “I’m marrying one of them.”

  His seething tone hits me square in the chest.

  I don’t want to marry you, either. Asshole.

  “She won’t be one of them once you’re married. She’ll be one of us.”

  Jack irons his face with his hands.

  “It could be a lot worse. Suck it up and enjoy being out of jail.”

  I lean forward, choosing that moment to speak. “Will I get to visit my cousin?”

  Johnny’s smooth face turns toward me. “We’ll see.”

  My chest deflates at the coolness in his voice. “When would we have the wedding?”

  “As soon as possible. You need to get interviewed by the cops.”

  As soon as possible.

  The clattering of knives and forks clashes in my ears, suddenly extremely loud. I stand up from the table without realizing it, blood roaring, the subtle thump of my heartbeat like ominous drums. Distantly I hear Johnny tell Jack that the wedding will take place a couple days from now. Jack shakes his hand and stands up again.

  Jack slides an arm around my waist and leads me out of the room. We walk through the restaurant in a haze until finally we’re outside and I breathe a gulp of fresh air.

  I’ll be married to the man I’m walking next to in a couple days. I want to feel better, but how can I when I’m with him?

  We drive back to his place in complete silence. It’s nearly 1:00 a.m. by the time we get back. My head reels from the meeting with Johnny. He parks his car in front of his brownstone and I follow him inside. My insides battle with my desire to get away from him and the fact that I really don’t want to be alone right now.

  I turn around as he locks the door, the sound sending a thrill through me. When he faces me, it’s scary. He looks ready to kill, and he shrugs out of his jacket, hurling it to the floor. I’m afraid to touch him. To look at him.

  “I’ll see you when we get married.” He lets me go with suspicion narrowing his eyes, and as soon as the door closes I feel it as though it happens inside me.

  BEATRICE

  My wedding day.

  You know, the event some girls spend their whole lives imagining. The flowers. The dress. The cake.

  All those details suddenly feel meaningless, like the vase of plastic flowers sitting on my vanity. What’s the point of this charade? It’s all shit.

  “You can’t do this.”

  I look up into the mirror, my eyes passing briefl
y over my joyless face to my right shoulder, where Dad sits beside me.

  I never told him about Jett’s threats, and I’m not sure that I should.

  “It’s done.”

  Anguish crumples my dad’s face.

  Please don’t make this harder than it already is.

  “We’ll get you married to a nice man—a man in the MC.”

  A sigh blows out of my perfectly painted lips. “Daddy—”

  “No! I won’t see my only daughter handed off to some fucking dago.”

  “He’s not that bad,” I lie.

  “I want you to marry a man you’re in love with, not to settle some score between the mob and the club.”

  I wanted that, too.

  “I’m doing my part to help because I can’t stand the thought of anyone else getting hurt.”

  I’m also trying to save my own ass.

  Dad’s face screws up in pain and he collapses in his hands, breaking with sobs.

  Jesus.

  Mary pauses in between doing my makeup as my father’s crying echoes in the small room. I give her a sharp look and she puts the eyeliner down, retreating outside.

  “Daddy, it’ll be okay. Really, I’m fine with it.”

  My heart seizes when he grabs my arm, lifting his head. “It’s not okay. I can’t believe Jett asked you to do this before asking me.”

  “He’s the president. He can do whatever he wants.”

  My dad gives me a long look before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a lethal-looking switchblade. I recoil, but he takes my hands and presses the cool metal into my palm, closing my fingers around it.

  “Daddy!”

  “I want you to take this. I want you to promise me you’ll use it if he hurts you.”

  Dad’s red eyes bore holes into mine.

  “He— I don’t think he’ll hurt me, Dad.”

  “The fact that you don’t know for sure proves that you’re in trouble.”

  My fingers close around the cold metal, my heart beating fast. Is he right?

  “Promise me, Beatrice. I don’t care what happens, I just want you to be safe.”

  My eyes slowly well up and Dad’s face blurs in front of me, and then I wrap my arms around his neck. I’m scared, but I can’t admit it. I’m not going to make Dad feel even worse about this.