Win a Filthy Bad Boy: A Bad Boy Romance (6 page)

Animal!

He took me in public with my panties around my ankles.

Since Chad, Bonnie became more and more easily aroused. It was as if he had enhanced her pleasure receptors to an unbearable level. Sitting in her cubicle, at her desk, in the office filled with her coworkers, was certainly not the right time for her to lose control.

But she was horny.

Reading review after review, Bonnie became aware of the incessant friction of her nipples rubbing against her bra. Her inner thighs became hot and moist, her panties clung to her, tugging unforgivingly at her clit. Absent-mindedly, she slid a hand up her blouse to tickle the skin below her belly button. Her breath became heavy.

Slowly, Bonnie glanced about; as far as she knew, everyone was busy working. Her thoughts swam to Chad. He was an asshole, a filthy-mouthed, arrogant playboy. But he filled the emptiness that owed itself to Henry; not Henry’s absence, but his presence. Remaining so long in a loveless relationship numbed her to real sensuality.

Now it had returned. With a vengeance.

As Chad came to her mind again, the way his large hand caressed her neck, Bonnie’s tickling turned into a slow caress, with her other hand she held her collarbone.

The ceiling security camera couldn't have caught her touching herself, or so she hoped. She wanted to get herself off.

Desire flooded her and made her throat constrict to the point where it was hard to breath. She needed release. Her hands sunk below the waist of her skirt and roamed into her panties. The ache between her legs was too much to handle.

The night he went back to her place, Chad stirred the lust in the pit of her stomach, until it was an ache that welled between her inner thighs. His hot tongue was the perfect remedy. She clamped down on his fingers that explored deep within her, she shuddered violently as his tongue lapped at her clit, sending powerful vibrations throughout her body. Bonnie recalled with deep humiliation, her hips bucking as she tried to ride his hand.

Though she was still in her cubicle, Bonnie imagined his flawless features as if he were in front of her, angelic in his beauty, yet devilish. He looked sinful, like a fallen angel; it was as if God had made him too perfect for heaven.

Bonnie sat still. One hand clutched her neck, while the other was buried deep within her panties. At first she massaged her finger tips at the entrance of her lips. Her thigh muscles squeezed as the junction of her thighs continued to swell.

Despite her loathing for the man, her mind filled with anticipation over seeing him again. Her body seemed to associate Chad with the ultimate orgasmic experience. For good reason. It was true.

Her hand at her neck lifted her blouse and slipped into her bra so it could tease her breasts, a pathetic attempt to imitate the way his thumb brushed her taut nipple, the way his tongue slowly rolled over one nipple while he gently twisted the other.

Her clit grew to a tiny bud as she stroked it. Thankfully, no one interrupted her. It wasn’t that Bonnie found getting off in public thrilling, but due to the sweet tension that curled within her stomach, turned her legs to boiled pasta, she was simply too weak to stop herself.

Bonnie appeared so sedated that if anyone looked over at her during that moment, they would have become instantly curious. With her eyes slightly closed, her lips parted slightly, an observer might have thought she were meditating.

Her breath caught and held. She held her fingers in her pussy and kept them there, still, feeling her clit pulse in response. As she felt a surge of pleasure in her lower region, a stifled moan became a hiss and she exhaled a gust of air from her burning lungs.

Internally, she rioted, wanting, needing to cry out as she imagined cool gray eyes impaling her. She wanted his touch so badly, her feet moved up and down, her thighs squeezed her hand. The friction from her thighs, the rubbing of her hand, even the fabric of her panties staggered her.

She bit down on her bottom lip, her other hand gripped the armrest with enough force to leave a dent in it.

Burying her fingers inside herself, she began to plunge in and out. Bringing her other hand in on the action, she stroked it in circles around the hard button, feeling herself float and twirl as she approached climax.

I low cry escaped her lips. Her climax raced down her and hit her hard. Obscenities exploded into her mind.

“Oh fuck!” she cried

“Hey, what's up?”

Immediately, she stopped touching herself. Her eyes flew open to see Johnny standing over her. He looked concern.

“Oh!” Bonnie gasped, staring at Johnny. Her legs trembled as she became totally boneless. Her clit shot pure bliss throughout her body.

"What’s wrong?" Johnny repeated.

“A bit of bad news. There's a leak in my kitchen. The landlord just sent me a text,” Bonnie said. Her cheeks were suddenly so hot, they burned.

“Oh man, that sucks,” Johnny said, his eyes inadvertently scanning her desk.

Bonnie felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Her cell was in her bag; did he suspect?

“I’ve got to get back to my apartment,” Bonnie said, hoping the urgency in her voice would maybe add to the authenticity of her lie.

“Can't say I blame you,” Johnny responded.

When Johnny finally left, Bonnie noticed her trembling legs. Her head spun; it was almost impossible to stand. Shaking, she pulled herself up from her chair, and let out a sigh. That day she left the office, weak in the knees and filled with self-reproach. A terrible sense of foreboding hung over her. She felt like a junkie with zero self-control, about to face her demon. That demon was Chad. And he was about to devour her.

Chapter Five

The plot of
Win a Filthy Bad Boy
was pretty much similar to
The Bachelor
with the difference being it followed the romantic interests of a male celebrity with a bad boy streak and a naïve date (Bonnie) who had to put up with his personality. It followed the internal and external conflicts both parties experienced while visiting exotic locations and romantic settings. It was streamed live around the world.

Unlike other reality shows that used the same plot,
Win a Filthy Bad Boy
always had the same outcome: the bad boy’s nature would ruin his chances of winning the girl over.

Bonnie never watched the show or even paid attention to the Mr. Steel phenomenon. Now both imposed themselves on her without her explicit permission and the results would be nothing short of life changing.

The Mr. Steel phenomenon was unlike any that had occurred before. In 2015, Mr. Steel was voted the sexiest man alive and since that time, he was interviewed on
Jimmy Kimmel Live!
and
Larry King Live
.

Even before he was picked as the sexiest man on the planet, Mr. Steel’s steady ascension into the mainstream was aided by word-of-mouth and the Internet. Unintentionally, Chad created hairstyle, clothing, and behavioral trends. Guys even tried to imitate his
blasé
attitude.

A week passed since Bonnie found out that she had won a filthy bad boy, and since that time, she threw herself into researching as much as possible about Chad DeMarco. Between this and taking constant calls from Jill and the producers of the show, Bonnie couldn't get much done on her blog.

Later that afternoon, her cell rang.

“Yes, Jill?” Bonnie said, as she answered.

“Hey, what's going on?” Jill sounded excited.

“You tell me. I'm about to pour myself a glass of wine,” Bonnie said, walking to the kitchen.

“Save it. Why didn't you tell me?” Jill asked, sounding somewhat annoyed.

“Tell you what? If you're talking about the show, you've called about five times in the past few hours. I think I've told you everything,” Bonnie said, holding the phone between her neck and shoulder as she unscrewed the wine.

“The party tonight; were you trying to go without me? I can't believe you Bon,” Jill said.

“Wait… party, what party?” Bonnie asked, feeling her chest tighten with a rising angst. The idea that she had forgotten something lingered in back of her mind.

“You're going to a celebrity party courtesy of Victory Studios,” Jill said.

“Oh shit,” Bonnie said, rolling her eyes. She had forgotten to decline the invitation. “I forgot all about it.”

“Shut up!”

“I did, honest. But that doesn't matter because I wasn’t going anyway,” Bonnie said. She put the bottle of wine aside and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Too late to try and play the martyr now. You're already semi-famous, so get dressed,” Jill said.

“How did you even find out?” Bonnie asked, finding it impossible to match Jill’s enthusiasm.

“Johnny told me that you mentioned it in passing. But I never dreamed you would forget. I’m falling to conceive how you forgot about such a big event. You're still not into Chad DeMarco? Haven't you seen the pictures that I sent you?”

Bonnie had deleted Chad’s naked pictures from her phone, but not before she had a minor masturbation marathon that left her filled with shame and guilt. She hated him, but couldn't help how her body responded to him.

She wondered how on earth Jill acquired the photos, though was afraid to ask, fearing the answer would lead to a collection of Chad’s images in her hard drive. She would find herself obsessing over Chad if she weren't careful; she needed to stay busy and to stick to the professional assignment as closely as possible.

“Jill, I deleted the pictures,” Bonnie said, which was a complete lie.

"What a shame. Now clothes on. Body out. I'll be outside your apartment in two hours, so don't leave me waiting.”

***

“I don't believe how many women are taken in by him. I mean, he is totally obnoxious,” Bonnie said, sucking on her straw. Hip-hop music blared its heavy bass beats.

“And how would you know that when you haven't even met him?” Jill asked.

Bonnie and Jill sat in the club. Earlier, a limo, courtesy of Victory Studios pulled up outside of Bonnie’s apartment to take her to HC Lounge, a nightclub located near Union Square in Manhattan. It catered to an upscale clientele, attracting nothing but investment bankers, models, and A-list stars.

"I guessed," Bonnie said, suddenly feeling the need to bring the subject to a close. “This place is fancy.”

“Yeah, they are really dropping money on you. I wonder if they paid Mr. Steel to appear on the show?”

“I don't know. I haven't looked into it yet,” Bonnie said, noticing a clean shaven man in a ridiculously expensive looking suit who hadn’t stopped staring at Jill from the moment they walked in. He had coifed dark hair and broad shoulders.

Bonnie and Jill sat in the booth at the corner of the room. Their host, a man named Richie, brought them free drinks and introduced them to executives, owners of networks, and a few celebrities.

“Look! I swear that's Leonardo DiCaprio!” Jill said.

“Oh, where?” Bonnie said, straining to see. She saw the actor enter a booth with a woman. Bonnie turned and saw the man in the business suit was still eyeing Jill. Bonnie poked Jill. “You’ve got an admirer,” Bonnie said in a whisper. Jill finally caught sight of the man in the business suit. His eyes feasted on her.

“Oh,” she said. “He's hot.” She turned to Bonnie. “He can't be looking at me.”

“Of course he can,” Bonnie said with a laugh. “He hasn't taken his eyes off you from the moment you walked in here.”

Jill sucked on her straw and stared back at her admirer.

"I'm going to the bathroom,” Bonnie said, preparing to stand. Jill pulled her back down. “Jill, what—”

“Don't leave me,” Jill said, wide eyed. “What if he decides to come over?”

“Jill, you'll be fine. I won't be long, okay?” Bonnie playfully pinched Jill’s cheeks, before standing. She made her way through the sea of faces to where she saw the ladies’ restroom sign.

Chad had yet to appear. For reasons she didn’t understood, that annoyed her. As she waded through the sea of bodies, she never intended to seek him out, but probing for his face among the crowd of people was almost a reflex.

As she was about to push open the bathroom door, someone grabbed her shoulder.