Knocked Up by the Bad Boy (6 page)

He sits with his hands on his knees, grinning at me like the Cheshire cat as his friends laugh and
laugh
their asses off. “Some balls!” one of them yells.

Johnny’s speech is a bit heavier than usual from the alcohol, but his eyes look just as sharp. “Couldn’t resist a bit of Italian sausage, am I right, sweetheart?”

I roll my eyes at the crude banter. If he thinks he’s going to offend me with that shit, he’s wrong. I’ve heard worse. I’ve heard a thousand times worse. Hell, I grew up around a bunch of foul-mouthed bikers. This is child’s play.

Still, that deserves a brushing off.

“You know what?”

The corners of his lips pull, and I hate how my heart does a little flip when I see it directed toward me. “What?”

“I think you’re right. My pussy is too good for your cock.” I flash a grin at his stunned face. “Bye.”

Then I turn around and walk about two feet before my body stumbles backward into something solid and warm. A hand grasps my arm and yanks me back.

The air from my chest disappears as his strong hands turn my body around so that I’m facing him, crushed against his chest. Still smiling, he leans in until his lips are brushing my ear. If I thought I was uncomfortably warm before, it’s nothing compared to now. My whole body heats up like a furnace, responding to his touch.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The growl in his voice takes me aback for a moment. I wonder if it’s another joke, but it doesn’t feel like it when his fingers are pinching me. Jesus, I’ve never met such an intense person in my life.

Despite the fact that I’m just waiting for him to turn his face and brush his lips against mine, I push his chest. “I’m going to find someone else who won’t humiliate me in front of his friends.”

“You started it.”

Whatever.

His eyes light up with mischief. “That’s the only reason why you’re here, isn’t it? You’re pissed off at Daddy, and the greatest revenge you can think of is to suck my cock.”

Yeah, that’s about the size of it.

“You want me thrusting inside you, filling you up with my cum. You want to be defiled by me. Don’t you?”

Sweet Jesus, yes.

I want to have one wild night with him. Not because he’s Italian. Not because I want revenge. Because I haven’t gotten laid in years, and he’s the most seductive, sinful man I’ve ever met. He’s just a bar owner, but he acts as though he’s larger than life. The confidence. The sexiness. Trash flies from his mouth, and my pussy gets wet. I don’t understand it.

I want to strip off my clothes right now.

“I want—I want a good time. You look like you’re good.”

He takes my chin between his forefingers, and I feel like some kind of pathetic puppet. Dark eyes dance at me. “You bet your sweet ass, I am.”

Warm breath mists over my face, and I’m waiting for him to kiss me. All train of thought halts to a standstill as he touches my waist. The warmth from his hand burns through my dress as though it were made of silk. His hand. On my waist. Oh, he just squeezed me.

Fuck, he’s talking.

“Maya?” he says with laughter in his voice. “Did you hear a word I just said, or were you thinking about how badly you want my cock inside you?”

No, you’re letting him get overconfident.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Yes,” he says, eyes flashing. “I can do many things with my mouth. I think you’ll find that I’m very talented.”

His arms wind around me slowly, like a snake coiling around its prey. I’m slipping into some kind of coma, trapped in this guy’s arms. His jacket smells like cedar, but there’s not a hint of cigarette smoke, despite this bar being full of it.

“Talented at what?”

But I already know the answer. I already know it from the smile on his face, as he drops closer and closer, his hands locking me into place now. His lips hover over mine, and I stand still as if paralyzed.

“
Eating out your pussy
.”

I can feel it clenching tight at his words. Eating me out? I’ve never experienced a man’s tongue and mouth down there, but now I’m imagining his dark head bobbing between my legs.

Then his hands unwind from my hips and he steps back with a pleasant smile, the warmth gone.

What the fuck?

“Want a drink?”

The suggestion makes me angry. He stands in front of me, humor in his eyes as I cross my arms over my chest. His guy friends are still eyeing me, but I don’t give a fuck. I’ve been waiting way too long for this, and if he won’t give me a one-night stand, I’ll find someone else who will.

My voice erupts in the middle of the bar. “
No
, I don’t want a drink. I want you to take me home and
fuck me
.”

My raised voice catches the attention of his friends, sitting nearby. One of them looks at me with a slack-jawed expression as the bar goes suddenly silent, the patrons wheeling around to look at the crazy girl.

“Jesus Christ, Johnny,” one of them says as he eyes me. “If you’re not banging her, I will.”

A smattering of laughter rings out, and the noise returns to normal levels.

My very ears are burning.

Johnny’s voice darkens as he shoots the man a warning look. “Don’t be an asshole.”

It’s weird. The man gives Johnny a cowed look and mumbles an apology to me. Johnny turns his attention back to me, hitching up a smile on his face. He tries to act cool, but I can see the hunger blazing in his eyes.

“Why the fuck should I? You insulted me last night.”

My laughter chokes my throat. “What are you, the Godfather or something? I insulted you because I didn’t want to fuck you?”

“You’re a real smart-ass. You know what you did.” His grin widens. “I could have any piece of ass in this room. Why should I waste my time with you?”

I take a bold step forward, showing him that I’m not afraid of him despite whatever the fuck he thinks he has to prove. I take his tie in my hands, watching how his eyes flicker over my lips.

“Because I’m the hottest piece of ass in the room.”

A smile tiptoes over his face, and there’s real laughter in it, unlike the condescending grin he keeps wearing.

I pull his tie slowly, his head inching toward mine, and he lets me draw his face in. His lips crash against mine, tongue darting inside my mouth to taste me. A shock zaps through his lips into mine, running all the way down my back in a delicious line. He still tastes like tequila. Fingernails slightly dig into my scalp as he fists my hair and forces my mouth against his. I lean into him as every part of me starts to heat up. It’s as though my body’s waking up after a long sleep, and he feels amazing and it’s just kissing. I’m not going to regret this.

When he pulls back, it’s not because either of us wants to. It’s just to breathe. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “All right. Let’s get out of here.”

He pulls away from me for a moment to whisper something in that guy’s ear, and then he returns to my side, wrapping his arm around my waist. He digs his phone out of his slacks and makes a call.

“Chris. I need you to pick me up. All right.”

Then he ends the call and shoves it back into his pocket.

There’s just so much that doesn’t add up about this guy.

He pulls me toward the exit, never letting me go for a second. A black Audi pulls up to the curb and Johnny lets me go to open the door for me like a perfect gentleman. Man, he’s so different from the guys back home. I feel heat emanating from him as I walk past him and slide into the backseat. He joins me, his thighs pressing against mine.

“Take me home, Chrissy.”

The driver, a young guy wearing a leather jacket, nods and pulls the car away from the curb. How strange. The driver isn’t wearing any kind of professional clothing. For some reason it makes me a little nervous.

Fuck it. Who cares?

I want to think about his hand casually resting on my leg, his fingers wrapping around my knee, and the thrill that it gives me. He looks at my legs, my thighs, my tits, as if he’s deciding what he’s going to do with me. It’s a bit awkward with the other man in the car, but Johnny doesn’t seem to care.

We drive back to his place in silence. It’s a bit unnerving, and the closer we get to his home, the harder it is to ignore my frantic heartbeat. He kneads my thigh, inching up higher, dragging my dress over my skin as I turn sideways. He tips my head back with a single finger under my jaw and his lips fall over mine. They start out soft, at first, oddly restrained, and then they’re hard and biting. He slides one of his hands up my waist and grabs me roughly, as if he can’t decide which part he should focus on. I gasp into his mouth as his palm slides between my breasts. He grabs one of my tits—just groping it roughly, sliding his thumb over my peaking nipple.

“
Tabarnak
, your tits.”

My face burns scarlet, or I imagine that it does. Suddenly I’m reminded of the driver’s presence and I pull away from Johnny, returning my hands to my lap. His arm stretches behind my head, his fingers tickling the back of my neck. I burn at the sight of amusement on his face.

We finally arrive at what looks like his high-rise apartment.

“Thanks, Chris.”

“No problem.”

He doesn’t pay the guy. Huh.

I take Johnny’s hand and climb out of the car as he waves goodbye. The car rolls away, and a jolt of fear suddenly hits me as he guides me toward the lobby.

I can count on my hand how many times I’ve had sex, and never before have I had a one-night stand. I want him, but I still feel racked with nerves. He’s too gorgeous, too slick. My confidence can barely keep up with him.

It’s too late.

The elevator doors slide open, and I’m lulled into a false sense of security.

“I’m starting to think that you’re not just a bar owner.”

Johnny leans his back against the mirrored wall, grinning wickedly. “Yeah? What gave you that idea?”

“Everyone treats you like you’re a king.”

This time he really does laugh. It rebounds sharply in the elevator, and he pushes himself off the wall, advancing upon me like a predator. Until my breaths get short and I have a hard time focusing.

“Maybe I am.”

Oh God.

“Ever think about that?”

He’s connected. No fucking way.

An icy feeling spreads inside my chest as he pulls me against his body roughly without giving me any time to respond.

This is what you wanted, remember? You went to that bar because you knew Dad hated Italians, and what’s worse than an Italian?

A
Mafioso.

It all fits—the bad-boy attitude, acting as though nothing in the world can take him down, his fucking ego, and the guys sucking up to him.

Oh
shit
. Oh God.

I’ve no idea how high up he is, but he’s a soldier, at least. He’s a made member. I’m sure of it.

Dad would fucking kill him. And me.

The elevator pings open and I’m half-tempted to think of some kind of excuse to bail, because this is nuts. I’m the daughter of the president of the Devils MC, and he’s in the mob. I almost want to laugh at how panicky I am right now. The other, louder part of me wants to do it anyway. It’s wrong. It’s exciting. I’ve already gone too far.

He leads me down the hall, and still I haven’t made a move to suggest that maybe we should call this whole thing off. Save my fucking skin and his.

Instead I let him pull me into the darkness of his apartment. Into that horribly terrifying silence that simmers with desire. It’s always the most awkward part of first dates. The
whens
and the
hows
are torturous. When should I kiss him? I could handle him if he was an ordinary man, but he’s the opposite.

He’s a predator.

Like a black hole, he’s the brightest thing in the universe. I could pick him out in a crowd instantly. Get too close and you’re dead. You’re gone.

He shuts the door and locks it. The moment I hear the locks slide home, I know I’m fucked.

Johnny’s face seems different in the darkness. There’s no levity, just a humorless look and a predatory stare. It makes my heart jump in my chest. Then he flicks on the light, illuminating a vast, gorgeous apartment.

Ok, he’s definitely not just a bar owner.

“Wow.”

I turn around, impressed by how richly decorated the place is. He’s not some kind of rich frat boy. He’s got style. A blood-red abstract painting hangs near the entrance. I walk deeper inside, checking out the modern furniture. And what’s more, the whole place is pristine. I can’t see a speck of dust anywhere. It’s fucking creepy.

No guy on earth is this clean.

I wander around his living room and sit down on one of his couches, to see him still standing near the door, half-hidden in shadows.

My chest deflates.

I expected my clothes to fly off the moment we walked through the door, but he takes deliberate steps into the living room, turns toward the stocked bar he has, and pours us both drinks.

Ice clinks in the glasses as he walks to where I’m sitting, balancing the drinks in one hand, giving me a strange look. He offers me mine and I take it just to do something with my hands. The drink slips down his throat as he eye-fucks me, standing close enough to touch me.

It’s unsettling.

“What’s that look?”

“I can’t figure you out.”

The glass table makes a sharp sound when he sets his drink down, and then he plants his hands on either side of my head. I sink into the fabric as his face comes within inches of mine. Heart pounding in my ears, I can barely make out what he says to me.

“You really have no idea who I am?”

His breath mists over my face and I’m so tempted to lean the few inches forward and catch his lips in mine. I lick my lips.

“Are you going to fuck me, or what?”

A smile flickers. “I asked you a question.”

“No, and I don’t want to know.”

Puzzlement makes his eyebrows knit together and I take a gulp of whatever drink he brought me, the amber liquid burning down my throat.

He slides into the couch next to me, the sound of the leather fabric oddly loud in my ears. He doesn’t touch me. It drives me crazy. The alcohol spreads a flush over my chest, and I’m just about out of patience.