Bad Professor (An Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (112 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Kya

I
threw myself into the min golf game as if each hole would get me farther from
the disaster with Fenton. I knew I hurt, but the champagne and silly game
helped. Jackson smiled and laughed and everything was easy. He was not opposed
to my job, he even knew some of the same people, and I did not feel like every
time I brought it up I was detonating a bomb.

"So, Lawrence
was not lying about your golf ability," Jackson said.

"Well, he's
the one that taught me to putt, so I guess I owe this success to him," I
said.

"Oh, so
that's where you got that funny grip from."

"What funny
grip?" I asked.

Jackson stood
behind me and slipped his arms around me. "Not that many golfers thread
their fingers together. Though, you make it work and you make it look
good."

I laughed.
"Mr. McRay, you're trying to distract me. You know if I sink this last
putt, I win."

"No, I would
never do that," he said with a wink. "I was just trying to find an
excuse to get my hands on you."

I felt the warmth
of his smile reflected in my cheeks. Then, I turned to concentrate on the putt.
There was no reason I could not put the entire Fenton disaster behind me. With
Jackson, I was on sure footing. He was flirting, but everything was open and
easy.

"You
won!" Jackson said. "Now, I suppose I owe you lunch."

"No," I
said. "Lunch is on me, if you let me pitch a new vitamin supplement
campaign to you."

"I'm buying,
I lost fair and square. And I was hoping we could talk about business. Though,
I gotta be honest, I don't mind mixing business and pleasure. Can we still call
it a date?" Jackson asked.

I smiled and
nodded.

"Then, it’s a
date. I'll pick you up in the lobby in an hour?"

We agreed, and he
gave me a soft kiss on the cheek before we parted. I found my way back inside
and could not come up with a good reason to avoid my suite. I thought about
showering in the hotel spa, but I could not justify spending one more cent of
my boss' money.

Everything was
quiet when I entered the luxury suite. The dishes had been cleared from our
breakfast, the pillows were no longer strewn on the floor in front of the
fireplace, and the door to Fenton's room was wide open. I glanced inside and
cringed at the sight of a bright orange dress flung over the foot of the bed.
His guest was definitely staying.

I crept into the
master bedroom and locked myself in the bathroom. Despite the pleasant
distractions of the morning, I burst into tears. I started the shower and let a
few sobs escape. It hurt too much to ignore when I was alone.
How could Fenton do that to me? He had been
so tender, so entirely mine, we had made love twice. How I had been so
mistaken? How had I let myself be so used?

The searing hot
shower washed away my tears, and I stood under the spray telling myself I was
going to be fine. I was fine. As an adult woman, I could handle having casual
sex whether or not I put too much meaning into it. It was my mistake and when I
saw Fenton, all I had to do was pretend it did not matter. It should not have
mattered, but all alone in the shower, I leaned against the wall and let it
hurt.

"Kya?"
There was a hard crash against the bathroom door. "Why is the door locked?
Kya?"

"What do you
want, Fenton?" My voice was too harsh.

"Are you
okay? Where did you disappear to? Let me in," he called.

I gripped the
shower curtain with white knuckles. "I went down to the pool to relax for
a while. Then, I got distracted with work. I've got to get ready and go to a
meeting," I said.

I listened hard,
but did not hear a response. Of course, he would not care what I was doing with
the rest of my day. I scrubbed my hair hard, buffed my body with a loofah, and
rinsed clean. I wrapped the towel around me and yanked open the door,
determined to get dressed and out of the suite as fast as possible.

"Fenton! You
scared me!" I clutched the small towel harder. "I thought you
left."

"And, miss
you all hot and wet from the shower? No way," Fenton said.

I reached back
into the bathroom and carefully pulled an oversized white robe around myself.
"A little privacy, please?"

He stepped up to
the threshold of the bathroom and left me pinned between him and the door. He
tipped his head as he laser blue eyes searched mine. "What is the matter?
Something's wrong."

"Nothing,"
I said. "I just have a busy day. You are not the only athlete in Vegas,
you know."

"Alright,"
he agreed. He stepped back but kept his eyes riveted to me. "Did you get a
chance to meet Dana Maria before you left this morning?"

The other woman's
name was like lighting a fuse. I tried to keep myself from exploding.
"Yes. I answered the door."

He waited for me
to say more, but saw that I bit my lip. "What? You have something to say
about her?"

"What's to
say, Fenton? Really." I shook my head and tried to shut the bathroom door
in his face.

"I didn't
think you'd be so judgmental. So she's an exotic dancer, that doesn't mean she
isn't a good person," he said.

"A good
person? That has nothing to do with it. She has nothing to do with it," I
said.

Fenton crossed his
arms. "Yes she does. Dana Maria matters to me. If I'm going to stay here,
then she has to be welcome, too."

I shoved him back
and slammed the bathroom door in his face. "Do whatever you like. The
suite is yours."

"What is the
matter with you, Kya?" He kicked the bathroom door. "I thought you
were different. I thought there was someone underneath that country club
shell."

"Yeah? Well,
I thought there was a gentleman under your trash talk and stubble. I guess we
were both wrong." I zipped up a white linen dress and tied the sash too
tight. My hands shook as I clasped a string of pearls around my neck, but I
refused to let that stop me. My curls were springy up wild, but all I did was
tuck a white headband into place. I had to get away from Fenton before my
temper tore me apart.

I whipped the
bathroom door open. "Some people like the way I dress," I said.

Fenton's angry
blue eyes swept down the v-neck dress to the tight white sash. Then, he lunged
forward and caught me in his arms. His kiss was hard, hungry, and relentless.
"I like the way you look, but I like what's underneath better," he
growled.

His lips melded to
mine and my futile pushes turned into a hard grip on his shoulders. I was hurt
and angry and suddenly, so turned on. My entire body wanted to have him at my
mercy, to feel him shuddering inside me.

I shook my head
and broke free of his hold. "I have a lunch meeting."

"I'm late for
the gym," he said.

He stormed out of
the suite ahead of me. I rode downstairs in the elevator alone, smoothing my
hair down. Fenton's kiss had left me on fire. I was jealous that he could take
it out on punching bags and sparring partners. Instead, I had to sit at lunch
and smile politely.

"Is that a
little sunburn I see?" Jackson asked. He met me just outside the elevator
and slipped my hand into the crook of his arm.

I willed the hot
blush to dissipate and smiled up at my well-mannered date. "I'm just a
little warm."

"Well, I got
us a table inside so you can cool off in the air-conditioning." He led me
into the hotel's high-end restaurant, where a table was waiting for us.

"Thank
you," I said, sitting down as he held the chair out for me. "You
didn't need to go to any trouble."

"I love the
salmon here," he said.

"Then, how
about I let you order while I get my pitch out of the way?" I asked.
"It's always nicer to get business done before the food arrives."

"Alright, Ms.
Allen, let's hear it." He sat forward and fixed his brown eyes on mine.

"There's
actually not too much to it," I said. "Our agency represents a
vitamin supplement company and they are looking for a long-term endorsement.
Your magazine covers and publicity are just the sort of kickoff hype they were
hoping for, but whatever exposure you decide you want in the future is fine
with them. Really, all they ask is that you were a discreetly placed logo,
share a testimonial of the product, and show brand loyalty."

"Doesn't
sound too taxing." Jackson reached for my hand. "Are there any
catches?"

"Just the
non-compete. All they ask is that you do not sign on with any other vitamin or
diet supplements in the future. All other product endorsements are fine, they
just want their niche secure," I said. "If you think about it, that
does not exclude you from any big money or brand name deals. It's a sound
investment, a steady agreement, and a mutually beneficial contract."

"Well said,
well pitched," he said. The waiter came over and Jackson apologized for
the interruption then ordered for us both.

While he ran
through his choices with the waiter, I tried not to fume. It was the first time
I had run through my pitch since landing in Las Vegas. It was a solid deal and
saying it out loud only made me angrier at Fenton. His stubborn need to be a
lone wolf was keeping him from a good investment and me from completing the
task I had been given. I wondered if he was doing it just to challenge me.
Everything Fenton did seemed designed to chip at my exterior and get under my
skin. Was that why he threw the stripper in my face? Was it some kind of test
to see if I was able to keep my cool? If so, I had failed miserably.

"Is that the
same pitch you gave Fenton Morris?" Jackson asked.

I blinked my eyes,
scared for a moment he had read my mind, but he had just finished with the
waiter. "No, actually, I never even pitched him. Mr. Morris is not
business inclined."

"A very
diplomatic answer and another way Mr. Morris and I are completely
different." Jackson hitched his chair closer to mine. "I appreciate a
sound business deal and I am more than happy to sign your endorsement
deal."

"Excellent,"
I said. "Here, let me send you the forms. That way we can get everything
done before the salads arrive."

Jackson leaned in
to watch as I sent him a series of emails and attachments. While he admired my
quick work on my phone, and the plunging v-neck of my white dress, I caught
sight of Fenton across the hotel lobby. It was impossible to miss him with Dana
Maria tight on his arm in the blaze orange dress I had seen earlier.

"Quick work
and a leisurely lunch. I like your style, Kya Allen," Jackson said.

"Thank you.
And, trust me, you can consider yourself the complete opposite of Fenton
Morris," I said.

Jackson's hand
brushed the hem of my skirt and found my bare knee. "I hope so. Because
there is no way I can play hard to get like him. I'm very upfront and honest
about what I want."

I did not move my
knee away from the tickling circles he traced. "And, what is it that you
want, Mr. McRay? As your agent, I'm here to help," I said.

"I want you
on a real date with me tonight. No business. Strictly pleasure."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Fenton

It
could not have been
something I said. We hardly said anything. After Kya and I made it back safely
to the hotel suite, there were hardly any words exchanged. Kisses, cries of
pleasure, and climaxes – those were exchanged. I circled the punching bag and
reset my feet before attacking with a quick combination. I did not understand women.

One minute, we
were laughing over omelets, the next, I had her on a stool in the kitchen, and
then everything changed. All I had done was left to shower and Kya changed her
mind. The next time I saw her, she was distant, angry, and tried to keep a door
between us. How did a woman go from having nothing, not even a scrap of
clothing, between our skin to slamming the bathroom door in my face?

I hit hard, then
spun and kicked. The bag shuddered, and I reset to do it all over again –
anything to drown out the small voice in the back of my head. Something was
telling me that Kya had felt what I had. One hint of me loving her and Kya
Allen had run. It could not be true. I was not falling for her. I was not about
to fall for any woman, much less a buttoned-up one like her.

"So, where's
my cut?" Kev asked. He appeared well behind the punching bag and out of
range. "I hear you did quite well at the fight last night and if my
calculations are right, you owe me quite a bit of cash."

"What fight?
I didn't have anything scheduled last night," I said.

"Well,
nothing that explains the cuts on your knuckles and that huge bruise over your
ribs," my coach said.

"Come on,
Aldous, you know Vegas can be a rough town. And, us fighters are known to blow
off steam," I said.

He caught the bag
and held it. "You're damn lucky you didn't get injured or caught."

"He did get
caught, I caught him," Kev said. "And, as your manager, I've got to
say you should sign with that Kya Allen. Any woman ballsy enough to break into
a bare knuckle fight just to keep an eye out for you is worth signing some
endorsement deal for."

"You were
there?" I asked Kev.

"Of course,
and I would have stepped in to shield you from Darius Johnson if our Country
Club Princess had not taken care of him first," Kev said. "Seriously,
she is shattering that good girl reputation of hers left, right, and
center."

"Yeah, she's
no saint," I said.

"Oooh, do
tell," Kev followed me towards the locker room.

"No way in
hell." I tore my gloves off and rinsed off in the shower. I had thought
like Kev that maybe Kya was more than her reputation let on. The last
twenty-four hours with her had made me hope. Then again, maybe all she wanted
was what most women wanted from me– a wild night with an infamous bad boy. It
was easy with me because they assumed I did not feel a thing. I wished I had
not felt anything with Kya.

I dressed quickly
and slipped out of the gym before Aldous or Kev could corner me again. I needed
to see Kya. I wanted to look her in those green eyes and see what she had to
say. Was it something I said or did? Or had she just used me like all the other
women had? She had said it was nothing to do with business, but I was a fool if
I thought that made it mean something.

The cab dropped me
off in front of the Tropicana, and I was relieved the paparazzi were busy with
some reality television star and her tiny Chihuahua. I was almost to the front
doors when I caught sight of Dana Maria in a heated argument with a concierge.

"You can't
kick me out and you know it," she said. "You don't have any proof and
I could sue you for sexual harassment."

"What is
going on?" I asked.

"Sorry, Mr.
Morris, she claims to know you. The Tropicana does not allow solicitations and
I hope she has not been bothering you," the concierge said.

"Bothering
me? It looks like you're bothering the lady. What is this? How dare you accuse
her of prostitution." My fingers curled into fists.

"No, Fenton,
don't bother. It happens all the time," Dana Maria said. "Just
because I choose not to change into plain clothes to go to work."

"Exactly.
Take your work elsewhere," the concierge said.

"She's a
dancer." I stepped between Dana Maria and the uniformed man. "And,
you are going to apologize to the lady."

"I'm sorry,
Mr. Morris, I know we cater to our celebrity guests, but I cannot allow her to
be here."

"Allow her to
be here? She is staying with me. She's my sister!" My knuckles clipped his
cheekbone before I knew I had released the punch.

The concierge fell
to the ground and glowered up at Dana Maria. "You're lucky he's lying for
you."

My sister put a
sharp heel in his chest and leaned down to flash her driver's license in his
face. "See what it says there? Or does my brother need to correct your
vision?"

The concierge
turned pale. "I'm sorry, Ms. Morris. It was a simple misunderstanding.
Please, let me get the door for you and your brother." He scurried to his
feet and held open the door.

I urged Dana Maria
through to the lobby before the crowd of reporters could catch up with us. In
order to amend his mistake, the concierge stopped the flood of cameras and
called security to help. I was relieved as we slipped through the crowd at
check-in and made our way across the lobby to the hotel elevators.

Then, I saw Kya.
She was sitting at a small restaurant table set with gleaming silverware. She
caught my eye, and I saw a flash of emerald green anger before she blinked and
blew me off. I could not move. I knew I needed to get Dana Maria away from the
photographers, but I stared at Kya. She was angry with me. The thought gave me
hope. If she was mad, then she cared and that was what rooted me to the spot.

"Is that
her?" my sister asked. "I did meet her. She answered the door at your
suite."

"Did she say
anything to you? Was she rude?" I asked.

Dana Maria stuck
out a hip and planted a hand on it. "Let me ask you a question, little
brother. Did you tell her I was coming over?"

"No," I
said. "We got distracted." I tried to catch Kya's eyes again. She had
to remember how good it felt to be together. It could not just be me. She had
to feel the same.

"Jesus, Fen,
did you sleep with her?"

"Why? How
could you tell?"

My sister punched
me in the shoulder, hard. "So, you can't stop talking about the girl, you
sleep with her, and then you invite me to come over, but you don't tell her
anything about me. Think about it, little brother. Think about how it all
looked from her perspective."

Dana Maria
gestured to her blaze orange dress and tall platform pumps. She was anything
but subtle, and I admired her for being straightforward about herself and what
she did. Then, it dawned on me. Kya opened the door to see my sister who had
come over straight from work.

My sister punched
me again. "Too slow, Fen. You slept with her and then invited a stripper
over. No wonder she's trying to kill you with those green glances."

I rubbed my
shoulder and shrugged. "People shouldn't judge you based on what you're
wearing. They don't know you. They don't know how we grew up."

"Do you know
how she grew up? I've heard you call her Country Club Princess. Where's that
come from? The clothes she wears. Sounds to me like you're just as judgmental
as that concierge out there," Dana Maria said.

"It’s not the
same and you know it," I said. "She dresses that way to make business
deals. If anything, she uses it to cover up who she really is. You don't do
that."

"I don't hide
much," my sister said. She stared down a trio of young men who gaped at
her. "Though, we both know you do exactly the same thing as your prim Ms.
Allen. You wear your reputation like a bulletproof vest."

I tugged my sister
into an alcove of potted palm trees. "You of all people should understand
that. I was done being a burden to you. I needed to be on my own. And, to do
that you've got to be tough."

"You are
tough, Fen," she said. "But you're also being tough on her. Why are
you giving her such a rough time?"

"I'm
not," I said. My sister clicked an impossibly tall heel. "I'm not
doing it on purpose."

"I think you
are. I think you're pushing her every bit you can in the hopes that she'll turn
and run. Then, you won't have to worry about keeping her out. You won't have to
worry about her making a place in your life. That way it won't hurt when she's
not there anymore."

"And, what's
wrong with that?" I asked. "I'm not ready to share my life with anyone."

"Come on.
When are you going to stop preparing and start living?" she asked.
"Making sure everything is perfect first is making you miss out and it’s
no guarantee that it all won't go to hell."

I shook my head.
"I've got nothing to offer her. She doesn't really want me. It’s just fun
for her to get out of her comfort zone, you know, go crazy in Vegas like every
other tourist."

"So, you're
not crazy in love with her?"

"No. It would
be crazy if I was even near to feeling anything for Kya Allen," I said.

"Good."
Dana Maria peeked over my shoulder. "Because she looks pretty cozy with
that handsome man."

I brushed aside a
palm branch and looked at Kya. The hair on the back of my neck stood up when I
saw the man she was with was the same man from the nightclub the first time we
met. The man had a catalog quality that matched his short, cropped hair and
square jaw. I hated him. Then, I wanted to kill him.

The man's hand
trailed down Kya's bare shoulder and curled around her hand. While I crushed
the palm branch in my clenched fist, he lifted Kya's hand and brushed a kiss
across the backs of her fingers. His other hand was between them, under the
table and in a haze of red, I imagined what else he was touching.

"Yeah, you're
not crazy for her at all," Dana Maria said. She wrenched my hand free from
the palm tree and pulled me towards the elevators. "Let's get you upstairs
before you do something you'll regret."

"You mean
like going over there and asking her exactly what she thinks she's doing?"

"Hey, you
want to make a fool out of yourself, go right ahead," she said.

My shoulders
slumped and I let my sister lead me across the lobby. She dragged me towards
the elevators, as my steps got heavier. Even if there had been a
misunderstanding about who my sister was, Kya had moved on with lightning
speed. And the worst part was she had found someone perfect for her.

The doors shut and
the handsome man's face beamed at us from an event poster. I swore. Kya had
moved on to the number one pick for the big golf tournament. She wasn’t
interested in a mixed martial arts fighter from a low rent background. She had
her sights a lot higher than me.