Cinderella and the Geek (British Bad Boys)

by Christina Phillips

  That’s the craziest thing you’ve ever said to me. Luckily, I’m in no fit state to say that aloud; I just give a little nod and relax my grip on him before I rip out his hair.

  The tip of his tongue teases me, and a jagged gasp escapes. My muscles are rigid, because although he’s touched me there heaps of times, this is unimaginably different.

  He releases my hand, strokes my breasts, and caresses my waist and hips. My skin is on fire and I can’t keep still, but my fingers are buried in his hair, keeping him where I need him, because I’ll die if he thinks I want him to stop.

  It’s like he can’t get enough of me, either. He’s barely inside me, the tip of his tongue swirling around my sensitive clit, but I can feel him everywhere. My breath hitches, my vision glazes, and my mind shuts down as my orgasm hits.

  Fuuuck…

  I buck mindlessly as waves of pleasure rip through my body and drown my brain. I don’t know how long it lasts before I crash back to earth, boneless, gasping, and Harry looms over me, a satisfied grin on his face.

  “Good?” There’s a harsh note in his voice at odds with his grin, but I’m too bloody out of it to care.

  “Fucking A,” I croak, which makes him laugh.

  “Not finished yet.” He sheaths himself, and with an exhausted smile I part my thighs. First thing in the morning is definitely all it’s cracked up to be. Before I can share my earth-shattering revelation with him, he thrusts into me and a groan fills my world instead.

  It’s fast and hard, and the bed rocks, hitting the wall. This is so hot. He drags my legs up, so my ankles clasp around his waist, and hammers into me.

  Oh, wait, what…oh my freaking God. Nothing exists but Harry and this moment. The world slides out of focus, and I dig my nails into his butt as we come like a never-ending volcano.

  ...

  I’m pretty sure I look awful, with my tangled hair and smudged makeup from yesterday, but it’ll take an earthquake to make me move from Harry’s arms.

  Two orgasms. One after the other. And one of those elusive mutual ones at that. I can’t stop grinning. Luckily my face is pressed against his chest, so he can’t see me.

  His fingers trail over my shoulder, keeping a low-level hum of arousal thrumming through my blood. After a while, he gently tugs on my hair. “Breakfast in bed?”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “Movies and toast?”

  That would require shifting my lazy arse from here to his admittedly spectacular drawing room, where the TV is. “Hmm. I’d rather stay in bed for the toast.”

  He reaches over to his bedside and picks up a remote. Before I can ask what he’s doing, there’s a soft mechanical whirr and a flat screen rises from underneath the foot of the bed. I sit upright, clutching the sheet to my chest.

  “That’s epic.”

  “Great for late-night working.”

  I roll my eyes. “Please tell me you’re joking. You do late nights every night at Blitz.”

  He drops a kiss onto my nose. “Today’s the first time I’m going to watch a movie on it.”

  I groan as he heads out the door. Workaholic doesn’t even start to describe him. But there’s a smile on my face, because despite everything I wouldn’t have him any other way.

  …

  When I get home from work on Wednesday, Mum greets me as soon as I shut the door.

  “Alice. You told me that awards night with your boss was strictly business.” There’s a pinched look on her face, and she’s clutching her tablet to her chest.

  Shit. I’m literally frozen to the spot as my mind races. Although she might not be referring to the kiss. Why else would she be confronting me?

  “It was.”

  She turns her tablet around, and yeah. It’s showing Steele’s official channel, and I want to sink through the floor. Not because I look awful on the screen, but because this isn’t a great way for her to find out about Harry and me.

  “Brian’s son, Liam, was watching this over the weekend. Brian thought I knew all about it when he mentioned it at work today.”

  Thank you, Brian. Or should I say Liam. There’s no way Mum would’ve ever found this clip herself, and Brian isn’t exactly into all that kind of stuff, either.

  I should’ve told her. What’s the worst that could’ve happened? She might have freaked out, but at least that’s better than this.

  Since I can hardly explain my twisted reasons for keeping quiet without a full scale, in-depth discussion, I give a little nod at the screen.

  “Well, it was strictly business until then.”

  “Is it Harry you’ve been seeing every night since then?”

  There’s not exactly an accusing tone in her voice. It’s more kind of desperate, like she’s willing me to say no.

  It’d be so much easier to say no. But it’s one thing to skirt around the truth, and another to tell her a barefaced lie. I don’t want to lie, anyway.

  “Mostly.”

  “Oh, Alice.” She takes a great shuddering breath. This isn’t going well at all. “Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s a world of hurt in her words, which makes me feel terrible. “He’s going to break your heart.”

  That stings. “He’s not going to break my heart.” Yes, he is.

  “You have to get your degree, darling.” It’s like she didn’t even hear me. “You can’t give everything up for a boy, especially one like Harry.”

  And this is why I didn’t tell her. Because she instantly jumps to conclusions. Except she’s wrong, and her dig at Harry annoys me.

  “A boy like Harry? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know what I mean. He’s gorgeous, and he knows it.”

  The injustice burns. “He’s not like that.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Harry would never hurt me.” Not in the way Mum thinks, anyway. He’s not the sort to cheat and lie. And although I know it’s going to hurt when I leave at the end of next week, it won’t be because of anything he’s done to me.

  She gives a bitter little laugh. “They promise you anything. It doesn’t mean a thing. The only one you can rely on is yourself.”

  I’ve heard that so many times it’s tattooed on my heart. More than that, I know she’s right, but I hate that she assumes I’m so stupid and gullible, and before I can stop myself, the words pour out.

  “Just so you know, I’m not going to get pregnant and throw my life away.”

  The color drains from her face, and I wish there was a way for me to claw back my shitty comment, but it’s exactly what she’s inferring, even if she’d never say it out loud.

  It’s what she’s always been afraid would happen to me.

  “I,” she begins, before hitching in a harsh breath. “I’ve never once thought I threw my life away. You’re everything to me, Alice. You always have been. But just because I never finished university doesn’t mean I want that for you.”

  I know exactly what she wants for me. A great career, so I’ll never have to scrimp and scrape the way she has ever since my dad walked out on us. It’s why our furniture’s old, our car virtually an antique, and the reason we’ve never had expensive holidays.

  She’s given up half her life for me, so I can have a better one, and not once has she ever thrown it in my face. But I’ve always known, and it’s always torn me up inside. And now, because she’s right about Harry breaking my heart, I’ve tossed her worst fear for me at her, like I don’t even care.

  I’m a horrible person, but I can’t tell her I’m sorry or give her a hug, because a part of me is still mad that she’s so prejudiced against Harry, without even knowing him. His work comes first, but I’ve always known that and he’s never tried to tell me different, just to get what he wanted from me.

  “I’m still going to university.” I grind the words out between my teeth, and I suppose I should tell her it’s not serious with Harry, but I can’t. Because I wish it was. “You don’t have to worry about me, Mum.”

/>   ...

  An hour later, I’m sitting with my legs stretched out on Hannah’s bed while she dries her hair before we go out. I’ve just finished telling her a very abridged version of the argument with Mum, and she cocks her head and gives me an assessing look.

  “Are you really going to finish with him when you leave next week?”

  Her question completely throws me. I’d never thought of it that way before. “Me finish with him? Well, no. I mean…” My voice trails off. What do I mean? “I’ll be almost three hundred miles away.”

  “Never heard of long-distance romances?”

  “Yes, but this thing with Harry, it’s…” It’s what? I stare at Hannah and she gives me a mocking grin.

  “Yeah, what is it, Alice? You’re so certain he only wants to hang out with you until you leave for university. But have you actually asked him? Huh?”

  She knows I haven’t. And I really should. Because not taking me to Hydra last week had nothing to do with him not wanting to be seen with me. If it was that, he wouldn’t have offered to get more tickets, would he?

  We wouldn’t have gone to Shore Park, would we? Not that it’s likely we would’ve seen anyone we knew there, but that’s beside the point.

  “Well,” I hesitate. From the day I met him, I knew he was out of my league in every possible way. It wasn’t just because his family background is so different to mine, but also because he’s so brilliant and heads turn in admiration wherever he goes.

  Why does any of that matter? Harry doesn’t care. He’s not like the girls at school with their inbred air of entitled superiority, who never wanted me to join any of their little cliques.

  “Thank you.” Hannah does a little bow at her reflection before leaping to her feet. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Downstairs, I chat for a bit with her mum before Hannah decides she needs to use the bathroom. Her mum returns to the kitchen, and I sit at the table and idly flick through the Daily Shit-Stirrer that Hannah’s dad loves reading. Okay, so that’s the nickname my mum gives the paper, but it’s a good one considering the rubbish they print.

  I turn to the gossip page, which is a double-page spread this week, devoted to the opening of Hydra. Wow, talk about a star-studded event. Did Harry speak to any of these people, or was he genuinely oblivious to everyone except Heath Granger?

  My gaze skims over the photos of the beautiful people posing for the cameras and I shiver. Doing that once was more than enough for me.

  And then I see it. Harry, looking so drop-dead gorgeous my heart hurts, with two stunning girls clutching his arms.

  No. Maybe it’s his brother. They’re identical, after all, but I don’t even need to see his glasses pushed up onto his head, because I’d know Harry anywhere.

  It doesn’t mean anything. Look how the photographers at the Steele awards night made us pose for their lens. And you can’t believe a word this paper prints, except this isn’t a scandal-drenched article, it’s just a photo, and I doubt it’s been Photoshopped. I swallow the burning sensation in my throat and focus on the image as though it will somehow come alive and tell me the truth.

  It was just a photo op for the girls. That makes sense. So why didn’t he tell me about it?

  Finally, I read the blurb beneath.

  Sexiest Geek of the Year, Harry Carter, brainiac twin of Lucas Carter, igniting the Hydra crowd with one of his rare public appearances with supermodel Yolanda and Petra Pervis of Dominion Drive fame…

  A supermodel and a soap star. My stomach churns, and it’s an effort not to scrunch up the paper.

  He only has to step outside Blitz, and girls fall at his feet. Not just the regular girl next door, either. Supermodels and soap stars, to be more accurate. And even though his brother’s famous there’s more to it than that, because his family has always rubbed shoulders with the upper echelons of society. It’s in his blood to mix with the so-called beautiful people, and he sure doesn’t look out of place.

  Did he dance with them? Kiss them? For something that I keep telling myself isn’t serious or long term, I’m sure eaten up by the idea he cheated on me. But if we aren’t in a committed relationship, then it’s not even possible to cheat, is it?

  I prop my chin on my hand and ignore the headache winding through my brain. It’s never worried me that he’d go out with other girls for this short time we’re together because Harry doesn’t have a social life. But that’s hardly something to feel good about. The real test is if he is tempted, and refuses, because he’d rather be with me.

  How pathetic. Why would he rather be with me, when he could date a supermodel or a soap star? Wake up, Alice. I’m just here and available, and let’s not forget I’m leaving Blitz in one week and two days.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Harry

  On Thursday morning Di sidles into my office as though she’s in a bad B-grade movie.

  “All set for next Friday,” she hisses from the side of her mouth, giving me the okay sign with her thumb and forefinger.

  “And you’re sure Alice doesn’t know?”

  Di grins. “She thinks she’s getting the usual Blitz party with beer and bad food.”

  I got the idea last week but didn’t know if it was any good until I ran it by Di, who thought it was precious. I’m still not sure if she’s taking the piss or not, but at least she didn’t jump to the conclusion that the reason I suggested we do a full-scale High Tea next Friday afternoon is because Alice and I are dating.

  We’ll still have plenty of beer and bad food, but first we’re having the High Tea. The guys won’t know what’s hit them, and I snort with laughter.

  Alice appears at the door, and Di gives a dramatic performance of leaving the office. There’s no way Alice isn’t going to ask me what the hell that’s all about.

  “I heard back from Charlie,” she says instead. “He can start on Monday. So that’s good news.”

  Yeah, it’s great. There’s no doubt Charlie was the best of an excellent short list, but he’s not Alice. I’ve got to get over it. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again after next week.

  “Good. Do you need another desk in your office or anything to accommodate him?”

  “No, it’s fine.” She gives me a polite smile, and it’s like an Artic breeze just swept through the room.

  “What’s the problem?” The other day she told me her mum has started seeing some guy they’ve both known for years, but Alice seems to like him, so I’d be surprised if that’s causing trouble. “Everything okay at home?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine.” She hesitates, as though she can’t make up her mind to either leave the office or tell me what’s bugging her. “Harry.”

  “Yep?”

  She closes the door and comes up to my desk. “I saw your photo in the paper yesterday. It was taken when you were at Hydra.”

  I should’ve known. Being Lucas’s brother means they always think it’s great fun to splash my face next to his. Spot the difference…which twin is which…

  Riiight…but why’s Alice looking so upset about it?

  Since she clearly expects a reply, I rack my brains to think of an appropriate one. “Can’t believe they couldn’t find anything more interesting to print.”

  She doesn’t smile back at me. “Why didn’t you tell me about the girls?”

  Now she’s lost me. “What girls?”

  She gives a shuddering sigh. “It’s not that I mind. Well, I mean I do, but I’d much rather you told me than just pretended. That’s all.”

  What the fuck is she talking about? “Pretended what?”

  She takes a deep breath. “You were hanging out with that supermodel Yolanda and Petra Pervis from Dominion Drive. Which is fine, but you could’ve told me. That’s all.”

  It’s like I’m in one of those dreams where on the surface everything is normal, but an insidious sense of surrealism tips you off that the world is, in fact, bizarre.

  “I wasn’t hanging out with them.” I don’t even
remember them specifically, but obviously they were a couple of the girls who draped themselves over me in an effort to get close to my brother. “Why would I?”

  “Well, for a start they’re gorgeous.”

  “But they’re not you.” I grin at her, because how crazy is she, to think I’d look at another girl when I have her.

  She blinks. “No, they’re not me.”

  “If we didn’t have glass walls, and anyone could catch us, I’d kiss you so hard right now.” Bugger it, I’m tempted to do it anyway, but Alice is still obviously reluctant for everyone to know about us. Guess I can wait another week. She won’t care if we spill the beans at her leaving party.

  ...

  It’s only six, but I’m ready to leave work. Since going out with Alice, I’ve been leaving Blitz at crazy early hours, and, what’s more, I like it. Sure, I make up the time late at night at home, but I’ve always worked late in any case. The strange thing is I’m still getting as much done as I always have.

  There’s a life lesson in there somewhere, but I’ve no urge to look for it. Alice is meeting me at the pub in an hour, and no way am I going to be late.

  My phone rings and I almost ignore it, but I haven’t spoken to Lucas since the weekend, and it’s not as though I can’t hold a conversation while I’m walking to the car.

  “Don’t shit on me,” is his opening line. “I’m asking for a friend. Are you definitely not seeing Alice?”

  My muscles tense. Although Mac and Caleb know the truth, by unspoken agreement none of us told Lucas. It’s not even that I want to keep him in the dark. I just can’t find the right words.

  Can’t tell him how much Alice means to me. Can’t bring myself to lie outright to him, either. I know it’s fucking stupid.

  “A friend?” I hedge.

  “Yeah. Look, I’m only doing this because she’s a mate and I know she’s genuine.”

  I give the nod to a few of the guys as I make my way to the exit. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Yolanda. The supermodel, yeah? Tell me you know who I’m talking about.”

  I frown as I unlock the car. “What about her?”