LAD: A British Bad Boy Romance Novel (Bad Boys of London Book 1) (7 page)

“Your palm would say otherwise.”

Too busy recalling sentences from my femme fatale lexicon, I hadn’t realized him take my hand in his. I snatched it back, examining my clammy hands for myself. Yep— They had nerves written all over them.

“Look, I’m here on vacation with my friends and hanging out with them is my priority. So, excuse me for not wanting to hang out with a complete stranger over them.” I told the truth, I think. Kristen had been intent on me having a fling with this guy, but honestly, I wanted to enjoy my London vacation with my two best friends at my side. I didn’t want to be experiencing things without them— It felt wrong.

“I never said otherwise.”

Damn, you’re right,
I thought. I’d assumed he’d said something he didn’t and wracked my brains for an explanation. “Your tone suggested it.”

“Ah, my tone. Damn, that tone of mine.” We attempted to hide smiles from each other.
 

“I’m a good reader like that. I can tell you’re silently begging for me to stay here with you. I’ll put money on the fact that you’ll be pissed off when I leave in two minutes.”

He swiveled the chair to rest his elbows back on the bar. Then completely ignored my perfect, get-em-girl comment. “You off sight-seeing tomorrow then?”

Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!
 
“Um, yeah.”

“You packed your bum-bag and disposable camera like a proper tourist?” he teased then gestured to the bartender for a fresh pint.

I defended my right to be as cliche a tourist as I desire. “Yeah. We’re getting the double-decker hop-on/hop-off bus, going to the Globe, on the Eye, up The Shard— Seeing all of it. I mean, it seemed the most logical thing to do when you go on vacation to a city you’ve never been before, a trip that you’ve been saving for for eight years, in a famous city that you may never return to. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“You have the bum-bag?”

“Yes, I have the fanny-pack but no camera— Just my phone.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all planned.”

“Yep.”

“So, no way you might be in service of a more…hands-on…tour guide while you’re here?” He lifted his brows to me with a grin softening his whole expression. Fuck, I wanted those full, rosy lips of his against mine.

“Do those lines genuinely work for you a lot of the time?”

“Every time, sweetheart.” He made a breathy laugh at me.

“Okay. Noted that British girls are far more gullible than I thought.”

“No, they just happen to be a little less highly strung.” The conversation became unhinged by our mutual defenses.

“Excuse me?”

“I implied you were highly strung. You American’s can seem that way.”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“It was a joke.”

“A joke you meant. I’m not every American, okay? I’m breezy as it gets, buddy, so screw you.”

“Relax, doll. I’m only playin’.” But he wasn’t. He pointed out something in me I knew to be true but hated being called out for because of it. What he referred to as highly strung, I referred to as not putting up with crap— Something Kristen had instilled in me long ago.

“Fuck you, dude. My name is Hayley and I am not your doll.”

“Right. Hayley.” His mood one-eightied too. The openness and lightness he’d begun to reveal to me became overshadowed again by his bravado. His chest puffed out a little bit more and his brow tensed back to its usual glower. I’d upset him and that made me feel curiously powerful.

“My feisty little Hayley,” he countered possessively, ignoring my distaste for his terms of endearment only moments ago. Boy, he wanted to rile me up and sure knew how to do it. He continued, “Well, you enjoy your luggage and your vacation. If you’d excuse me, I have some things to attend to.” He glanced back over his shoulder at the blonde who hadn’t moved far from us.
 

“Of course,” I said, feeling like a kettle about to scream.

I rolled his bag toward him along the sticky floor and collected my things. Then he leaned in towards my ear and whispered, “Stop being so scared.”
 

I leaned back and he placed his finger below my chin. I unraveled. My heart gave out. It had appeared to stop pumping entirely, perhaps too busy packing its stuff for a much-deserved early retirement. With a silent heart, breathless lungs, and vacant head, the only action my body knew how to do was to lick my lips, practically inviting Felix to do what he wanted with me. Femme Fatale took a time-out leaving Happy Ever After Hayley to pick up the reigns.

“You haven’t left my mind.” Felix knocked me off balance again. “I don’t have your number, I’m not asking for it. All I’m doing right now is daring you to walk away from me after this.”

“After what?” I mouthed.

His lips pressed to mine and lingered there. He inhaled sharply while my head filled with the masculine redolence of his aftershave. Unable to resist, I found my fingertips foolishly brushing the stubble of his jaw. I could almost feel him communicating something to me that he couldn’t say with words— A vulnerability, a polite request for me to stay but was too stubborn to ask it out loud. This arrogant prick, his warm, tender lips. A kiss to rival any of my favorite fictional epic love stories. An impassioned kiss. An unforgettable kiss. A powerful kiss. An insta-love kind of kiss. I knew they must exist or people wouldn’t write about them so much. Had I found my Romeo in this bad boy? He backed away. My chest heaved. My throat whimpered.
 

“I…Yep.”
 
And on that signature, ingenious Hayley retort, I ran out of the bar as fast as my heels would carry me.

My hands shook as I took my phone from my purse. I checked it to see where Kristen and Ako had ended up, desperately needing them or some other distraction right now. I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t existing in some fantasy simulation.

My phone lit up with a five-minute-old message from Ako:

Pearl lounge, table by the DJ

I checked Maps for the place and sure enough, it was nearby, thank God. On my stumble to find my girls so they could rescue me from my thoughts, I ‘d concluded that who needed alcohol when a boy could have you in this much of a daze? That random, annoying, crazy, gorgeous English jerk — God, he’s such a jerk — gave me the most memorable kiss that I’ve ever had. And what’s more? The act had been about as vanilla as an after-school special. Everything Kristen had tried to persuade me about love had been wrong. Love? This wasn’t love, only infatuation. Regardless, Felix had read me well. I couldn’t walk away from this and I had to stop kidding myself that I could.

In defiance of myself, I made a choice: I could either be a shaking little mess after this or perk up and be proud that some hot guy who could have any girl on the planet is interested in me. I made up my mind— I tossed out my hair, slid my purse higher on my shoulder and walked with a Carrie Bradshaw-like swagger all the way to the club.

Not a chance in hell that’d be the last time I’d let him do that to me.

— 7 —
 

Beautiful, hypnotic, like the first snowfall in winter after a shitty day. That’s what Hayley Frost reminded me of. She gave me a reprieve from my tensioned world that felt threatened to snap below me at any minute. Her chaste kiss hung on my lips as the blonde from earlier sucked me off in the bathroom a half-hour later. This girl had been gagging for it the whole night and I couldn’t bear hearing her bitch about it another second.

I found myself losing my mind. Usually having my cock yanked in the John got me off quick for the sheer filthiness of it all. Plus this bird was fit as fuck and had the tongue of a goddess. But this…this all seemed so wrong and unsexy.

I needed to find focus again. I took a fist of the blonde’s hair in my hand and tilted my head back. Scrunching at her tresses, pushing her face deeper onto my length had me imagining it was a certain strawberry blonde’s hair in my hand instead. “Oh, yeah, baby. Let me fuck that mouth.”

I pressed in deeper to Blondie’s throat until she pulled away and complained. “Hey! Careful.”

I banged my head back against the tiled wall in frustration. I felt my boner giving up. This would never work— Not after that kiss. What had I done? I’d brought this on myself. I knew she tempted me in new ways and yet I let myself pretend I had the power. I dared her to walk and she did.

 
I couldn’t have anyone else but her. Hayley— She’d damn near filled my entire conscience with her soft, innocent energy and those lips, those breasts in that revealing dress! My attraction to that girl ran far deeper than anything I’d experienced. She had some sort of prepossessing quality that I couldn’t quite pin down to any trait in particular. Whatever it was, I wished she didn’t have it to save me wanting her like I did. It gave her an upper hand I couldn’t compete with. I craved her in the worst ways; ways I didn’t want to find out about lest I lose control and harm her. In almost any other circumstance, I would never have kissed a girl in that way that I did her— So softly, tenderly. But if she were to suspect that all my kisses would be of that nature then she’d be deceived.
 

Blondie tried one last time to accept me into her mouth and it only pissed me off. “Hun, stop. This is all wrong. I have somewhere to be.” She stood up and toppled slightly from her inebriation. “Lemme call you an Uber,” I added.

“‘’Scuse me, mate? Screw you. I’m not the one who should leave.” Despite saying this, she backed up to the door. “All you’ve done is lead me on then fuck me over all night. Call an Über for yourself and shove it.” She wiped her mouth then whacked me hard with her large purse. “Fuck off. Prick!”

My hands fisted, my nostrils flare. She read my face and stood aside to let me through. It seemed negativity followed me like an acid slowly corroding away at my patience. Perhaps I needed affection or kindness and that’s what I believed Hayley could provide— Positivity, stability, some goddamn company alongside peace and quiet.

This girl filled my head. I had to see her again, that much was certain, even if she didn’t want to see me. But she had to. The chemistry in that kiss was shared and nothing I made up. I had to surprise her somehow. I had to see her.

I’ll be the first to admit that I like to be in control when it comes to the fairer sex. I need to know where they are. It’s not a trust issue, it’s an obsession issue. Which makes being in a committed relationship with a lady is entirely out of the question for me. Why? Well, she would never be allowed out of my sight.

I feared myself on Hayley’s behalf. Not that I’d ever bring harm to her in any way but rather that I couldn’t let her go. The night was young. I could follow her out and playfully terrorize her a little, a method that had been received favorably in the past by girls.
 

What if I followed her on her little trip tomorrow? Surprised her? Spied on her a little bit to discover a bit more about my enigmatic American beauty.

No, I couldn’t wait. Patience didn’t exist when I knew she was out there, looking like that, thinking about me. Tonight had to be the night I wouldn’t let her go. The thought alone of other men, feeling on her, talking her up, taking or home only to fuck her and kick her out of their beds the next morning drove me near insane.
 

I ditched my suitcase after removing the baggie of blow from the lining, threw open the Red Pirate’s door and began the search for my Hayley.

— 8 —
 

The streets were dense with fog, but I preferred it that way. It felt like a concealing blanket for the night. Late nights, dark nights, cold nights were when I felt most happy, most alive. Days were merely a tedious build-up to the pleasures of that awaited in the twilight hours.

I considered the options of where the girls might be. Hayley had mentioned they’d be nearby and nearby could mean a host of different venues. Luckily, I knew my way around this neighborhood Their whereabouts could be determined by a simple process of elimination— There were around ten to fifteen drinking spots in that general vicinity: The Red Pirate, which is of course ruled-out; a few other locals, which would be far too intimidating for some young American girls, a Wetherspoons, a gentleman’s club, two sheesha bars, and some other pricer options. Then there was the Pearl Lounge— The club every girl loved for it’s ‘Every Night is Ladies Night’ special. I’d put money that she would be there.