Bad Professor (An Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (116 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Kya

When
I softened, Fenton smiled against my lips. His hands slid around my waist and
cradled me close against his hips. Instead of pushing him away, my hands
caressed his chest, then up to the bare skin of his neck. I twirled my fingers
into his thick black hair and let myself hope.

"I want you,
Kya," Fenton said. "I can't seem to help it."

"So it would
be easier if I had to go back to Chicago?" I asked.

He shrugged his
shoulders under my hands. "I'm not going to lie. If you were in Chicago,
it would be a lot easier for me to focus."

He shifted against
me and even the slight friction caused a wave of heat between us. He smiled and
kissed me again, deeper, hungrier.

I broke away
before my thoughts were completely unraveled. "But I like it here in Las
Vegas," I said. "Plus, it makes a lot of sense for my career."

"I don't
distract you from your work?" he asked.

I tipped my head
and looked into his bright blue eyes. "Unlike you, I can balance life and
work."

My phone rang and
a spark of mischief flashed in Fenton's eyes. "I bet that's work," he
said. He pulled me tighter against him and his lips sought mine for another
dizzying drink.

I almost forgot
what the ringing sound meant as I tangled my hands in his hair and hung on.
When I finally broke away, I swayed and he laughed.

"How's that
balance?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes
at him, but had to steady myself against the kitchen counter as I answered the
still-ringing phone. "Hello?"

"Ms. Allen, I
thought you had forgotten about me," Jackson McRay's voice was light and
mocking. "Celebrating the big win of your blue collar brawler, I
suppose."

"I'm
surprised to hear from you, I thought the tournament started today," I
said.

"I played my
first round already this morning. Aren't you supposed to keep up with such
things?"

"I do. I
will. Now that I know you are interested in becoming a client," I said. I
turned away from Fenton who stood with his arms crossed, clearly listening to
my half of the conversation.

"Well, then,
I can catch you up. I'm actually in the Tropicana. Why don't you invite me up
for a cup of coffee? I'll jump on the elevator and see you in a few,"
Jackson said. He hung up the phone.

I felt a swirl of
panic in my stomach as I turned back around. Fenton frowned at me, his arms
crossed tighter than before. "Looks like it’s less about balance and more
about juggling," I said. "Jackson McRay, the golfer, is on his way up
to the suite for a cup of coffee. We have possible business to discuss."

He followed me
into the master bedroom as I yanked a cardigan over my white t-shirt and tried
to make myself look presentable. I was relieved to see the red blush across my
cheeks was fading. Then, Fenton caught me in his arms again.

"Are you sure
you don't want to blow off the coffee meeting and jump in the shower with
me?" he asked. His fingers danced up and down my back.

I shivered with
pleasure and pushed him away. "I see what you're doing. You're trying to
make me screw up this contract so I have to go back to Chicago."

He shook his head.
"It would be easier to concentrate, but I like you in Vegas. I want you in
Vegas."

There was a sharp
knock on the suite door. I could not help but brush a soft kiss across Fenton's
lips before I hurried away across the suite to let Jackson in. As the golfer
strode inside, I glanced back and saw Fenton disappear into the second bedroom.

The knot of worry
in my chest loosened. "Good morning, I think there's still some hot coffee
in the pot. Unless you'd rather go downstairs?"

"Whatever
you've got is fine. Wow, must have been some party here last night,"
Jackson said. "You throw a big bash every time your client does
well?"

"I didn't
have much of a choice. Fenton decided to stay here when the MGM Grand kicked
him out," I said. I glanced at the second bedroom, worried the door would
fly open any minute. Better that Jackson heard from me than found out through
one of Fenton's grand entrances.

Jackson scrubbed a
hand over his short, cropped brown hair. "Interesting. Though, I guess it
shows you are a generous agent. Very hands on?" he asked.

I swallowed hard,
feeling the undertow of his question. "As far as letting clients use this
suite. It’s paid for by the company," I said. "Now, why don't you
catch me up on your round this morning?"

The tight hold in
Jackson's shoulders relaxed and he sat down at the kitchen counter. I poured
him a cup of coffee, relieved that he was no longer looming over me. He was
tall with wide shoulders, not as heavily muscled as Fenton, but there was a
hardness under his pale yellow Polo shirt.

"We don't
have to talk about work just yet," he said.

His tan arms
reached out towards me across the kitchen island and I immediately wanted to
pull back. I knew he would be offended, he had already made his interest in me
clear, and so I forced myself to stay still.

"What else is
there to discuss?" I asked.

Jackson caught my
hand, but the second bedroom door crashed open. He swiveled in his chair and I
was able to pull myself loose from his hold. Fenton strolled out in dark jeans.
He held his t-shirt loosely in his hands, the hard cut of his abs and the dark
slashes of his tattoos on full display. He looked menacing, out of place
against the soft white luxury of the suite, as if he belonged in an alley ready
to fight.

The look he gave
Jackson was taunting. "Oh, sorry, didn't know Kya was conducting
business." He yanked his shirt on and kept coming towards us. "She
warned me she had some client coming over. We've met before, right?"

"Yes,"
Jackson bit out. "Now, if you'll excuse us?"

"Oh, sure,
don't mind me. Any chance there's more coffee?" Fenton asked.

I poured him a cup
and gave him a sharp glance, but Fenton pretended not to notice. He stood at
the edge of the kitchen counter and slowly dripped cream into his cup, taking
the time to taste it and decide if he needed more.

Jackson watched
him with growing aggravation. "Maybe you were right, Kya. We should head
downstairs."

"Hey, if you
go for breakfast could you bring me a little something back? You know what I
like," Fenton said. He waggled his eyebrows at me.

Jackson caught the
suggestive look and his jaw tightened.

"Was that a
knock at the door?" I asked. They both looked at me as if I was crazy
until the knock came again. "I'll get it," I said.

I escaped the
kitchen and went to the door. I hoped it was Kev Casey. If anyone thrived in
awkward situations, it was Fenton's manager. I pulled the door open.

Dana Maria
sauntered past me in a jaw-dropping blue lace dress. The color and the
barely-there clinging material made it look like she was wearing nothing but
sea foam. She even had seashell clips in her long black curls and giant silver
starfish earrings.

"Really?"
Jackson exclaimed. "Have you no decency? You invite a stripper up to Kya's
suite in the middle of the day?"

Dana Maria
laughed. "It's not like I'm a vampire."

"I have no problem
with you," Jackson said. He got up from the kitchen counter. "I
didn't mean to offend you. Kya, you're really okay with this? No wonder you're
interested in a higher class of client."

"Jackson, I'd
like you to meet Fenton's sister, Dana Maria," I said. I understood that
Jackson was just trying to defend my honor, but if Fenton did not punch him, I
would consider doing it myself.

 
Dana Maria tossed her hair and came over to
shake Jackson's hand. "Nice to meet you, handsome."

Jackson held on to
her hand, swinging it away from her body as he thoroughly studied her dress.
"Beauty and the bruiser. I suppose you can't choose your family."

"Now, don't
get my baby brother all riled up. He promised me a nice lunch to celebrate his
big win. Ready?" Dana Maria asked Fenton.

"Almost,"
Fenton said. He took one bristling step towards Jackson.

The golfer ignored
him and turned to me. "I've disrupted your morning enough. How about we
discuss the endorsement plans over dinner?"

"Oh, it's
pretty straightforward," I said.

"Good, I'll
go make the reservations and send you the info," Jackson said. "All
you need to do is pull together some other options besides vitamin supplements.
I'd like to convey a different image than some of your other clients."

Jackson left a
stretch of awkward silence in his wake. Fenton took a lap around the suite,
trying to shake it off. I crept back to the kitchen and poured myself another
cup of coffee.

Dana Maria fluffed
her hair. "I do like a clean-cut man. Even had his Polo shirt tucked in.
Bet he's hiding a dirty, dirty mind under all that polish. Are you sure that
isn't what your little Ms. Priss likes?" she asked Fenton.

"Stay away
from Jackson McRay," Fenton told his sister. "There's something off
about him. I should have knocked his teeth out."

"But then how
would Ms. Allen make a mint off him? God knows she's only interested in him for
the business. Why else would the Country Club Princess head out to dinner with
the likes of him? I bet she can't stand the good manners, cloth napkins, and
wine lists."

"She's
capable of having a business dinner without it turning to sex," I said. I
put my cup down and marched across the suite. "Now, if you're done talking
about me, I actually have work to do."

"Scoping out
hot athletes. Sounds like a tough day to me," Dana Maria said.

I tried to ignore
her and headed into the master bedroom to get my laptop. Fenton told his sister
to wait by the elevator and followed me inside.

"What are you
doing this afternoon?" he asked.

"Really?
You're letting your sister get in your head?" I asked. "I'm going to
put on my little black bikini and spend the rest of the day flirting with any
athlete that looks my way. You know my method, reel them in, have sex with
them, and make 'em sign before they get dressed."

"You're
right, I'm sorry," Fenton said. "You can't be even a little flattered
that I get jealous?"

"There's a
difference between jealous and territorial. I'm not a piece of meat for you and
Jackson to circle around like dogs," I said.

"So you agree
that the golfer is looking for more than an endorsement deal."

"It doesn't
matter what he's looking for." I ripped open the closet and started
looking for a dress to wear later. "Like I said, I am perfectly capable of
controlling myself."

"Good,"
he said. He caught me and pulled me around to face him. "I only like it
when you lose control with me."

"After hours,
after we're both done with work," I said. I tipped my chin away from him
primly.

"Then, it’s a
date. Have your dinner, sign your new client, and I'll be here to celebrate
when you're done," he said. "I've been thinking about you and me and
that view from the balcony."

The thought washed
through me and I felt myself melting. Fenton was magnetic. How could I explain
that no one else attracted me like him? I wrapped myself around him and gave
him a kiss we would both feel the rest of the day.

"See you
tonight," I said against his warm and smiling lips.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Kya

I
was relieved when I dropped into the cab's backseat. My head was still spinning
from Fenton's kiss. The driver told me there was traffic and it would be longer
than expected. I nodded and leaned back, fully expecting to enjoy the peace and
quiet. I needed to think; I needed to get my balance back.

"In town for
business or pleasure?" the cab driver asked.

"Business,"
I said. His casual question started my mind racing around the real problem I
was having separating the two things.

"Really?
That's too bad. Unless you like your work. I love my work," he said.

"Do you like
living in Vegas?" I asked.

He nodded into the
rearview mirror but did not accept my change of subject. "What do you do
for a living?"

"I'm a sports
agent. I help athletes get endorsement deals and connect brands with sports
representation," I said.

"Well, we got
all kinds of athletes here," the cab driver said. "Just this morning
I've had two basketball players, a boxer, and a Kung Fu master. Can you believe
that? Bet this town is good for your business."

"Yes, my
thoughts exactly," I said. "I'm thinking of moving here. Or at least,
staying for a while." It still felt crazy to say it out loud and I always
braced myself for other people to laugh.

"You'll love
it," he said. "Who are you here to sign?"

"Fenton
Morris, the martial arts fighter. Do you know him?" I asked.

"Do I know
him?" The cab driver gestured to one of Fenton's billboards. "Though,
he sounds like a rough customer. Got a real reputation, that one. A nice girl
like you would do better with the tennis players or the golfers. Or how about
the video gamers? Everyone says it’s like an up and coming sport."

I shook my head.
Fenton's reputation seemed like its own entity.
Would I have to date it, too?
I held my breath.
Was I dating Fenton Morris?
We had never
really talked about it. His jealousy made us seem exclusive, but he did have a
reputation to maintain. What would people say if they knew he was dating
someone like me?

"So you like
those martial arts fights? All the blood? You don't strike me as that kind of
girl," the cab driver said.

"Then, I
guess I'd surprise you," I said. Maybe my reputation was the greater
hindrance. I always thought it helped me with work, but I was sick of it. It
was time for a change. I promised myself that Jackson McRay would be the first
client I landed as myself, not some prim and proper projection of what the
other person wanted.

With that thought
bolstering my courage, I sprang from the cab and stopped in shock. Jackson
McRay had beaten me to the restaurant, and he was arm in arm with Dana Maria.
More than arm in arm, his hand trailed along her neck and dipped down the front
of her revealing sea-foam dress. I could not read her expression, but Jackson's
smile was predatory.

"Sorry if I'm
late," I said. "There was a lot of traffic on the Strip."

Jackson stepped in
front of Dana Maria, giving her his back and not looking around again.
"There's my beautiful date. I have been waiting, but it was worth
it."

I sidestepped his
charming smile and greeted Fenton's sister. "Nice to see you again, Dana
Maria."

"I'm not
checking up on you if that's what you think," she said. "I have a
private gig in the adjoining hotel and your friend here snagged me as I walked
past."

"Private
gig?" I asked.

"Yes,"
Dana Maria tossed her hair, "I dance for private parties, bachelor nights,
and whatever. There's good money in it and I stick to the high-end hotels where
everything is on the up and up."

"Alone? Does
Fenton know?" I asked.

"Look, hun,
I'm a professional and, despite you turning your nose up at me, I love what I
do. Fenton knows and he's proud of me for making my own way in the world,"
Dana Maria said.

"No, I just
meant, I wanted to make sure it was safe for you. Fenton would not like you
going into a bachelor party alone," I said.

She sniffed at me.
"I got a bodyguard, but I can take care of myself. Better hope you can say
the same thing," she said. She gave Jackson's back a sharp look and then
turned on her platform heels. A burly man appeared from the hallway and followed
her to the elevators.

"Don't
worry," Jackson said. "I'll look out for you."

I took his arm.
The maitre d' escorted us directly to our table, where Jackson held out my
chair for me. I thanked him, but could not get Dana Maria's look out of my
mind.

"I ordered a
bottle of wine while I was waiting. I hope that's alright," Jackson said.
"You just relax and start on your glass while I order us dinner."

I nodded, but
wondered what he would say if I disagreed. Jackson seemed gracious and
well-mannered, but he liked to have things a certain way. I had a feeling that
everything in his world fit the way he wanted it to or it did not stick around
for long.

Still, he made
delicious choices and I was not discontent.

He smiled as I
enjoyed my first long sip of the wine. "It is so nice to meet someone with
the same tastes, isn't it?" he asked.

"Well, I
can't complain about the wine," I said.

"You would
have chosen a different entree?" Jackson asked. "I chose the salmon
because it consistently gets the highest reviews. I just thought it was best to
go with the best."

"Of course. I
would have done the same," I agreed. I was just being silly. Jackson was
courteous not controlling. I was just thrown by the vast differences between
him and Fenton.

"See,"
he smiled. "Great minds think alike. That's why I believe we can finish
our business before the first course."

"Well, I
already put out calls to a few of our clients, but the one I think is the best
fit for you is Precision Tools. It’s another long-term, brand-loyalty contract
like the vitamin supplements. I liked the idea of you choosing the right club
and incorporating that into choosing the right tool for the job," I said.

"See?
Perfect," he said. "Let's do that. You're really good at your job,
Kya. Do you see yourself at it for a long time to come?"

I sipped my wine
and tried to come up with a succinct answer. Until twenty-four hours ago, I
would have been able to tell him my entire life plan. Now, it was all up in the
air. I smiled. "I'm going to get off the road, find a base, and see where
it goes from there."

He nodded. "I
can see you settled down. I imagine you'll do well. Then, you'll join a good
country club and some lucky man will snap you up right away."

"Is that what
you see for yourself?" I asked. "Retiring to hold court at your
favorite country club and find yourself a lovely queen?"

"Then, a big
white house with a yard, a vacation home, and a few good years of enjoying it
all before the kids come along," Jackson said. "Sounds perfect,
doesn't it? I told you that great minds think alike."

He plucked my hand
from the white linen tablecloth and brushed his thumb gently across the back of
my knuckles. I had to admit that Jackson McRay was very attractive. A few women
around the restaurant were watching us with barely contained jealousy. I did
feel a thrill at the easy and comfortable life he had outlined.

The only problem
was he was not Fenton. I pulled my hand back. "It's a bit expected,"
I said. "I wouldn't want you to think I was boring."

Jackson's lips
curled in an appreciative smile. "You're right. I do like a girl who needs
to be chased. So tell me, Kya, what kind of wild future do you see for
yourself?"

I sipped my wine.
"I'm going to try Las Vegas for a while. It makes the most sense for my
business. So, there goes my country club plans. I might have to take up
gambling," I said.

"Or martial
arts?" he asked. His smile disappeared and he reached for his wine.

"Who
knows," I said. "There are lots of hobbies I haven't tried yet. I
think it’s kind of fun to takes things as they come. I mean, don't get me
wrong. I had outlined the exact life you described, but now I think I should
see what happens instead of trying to make it happen. Does that make
sense?"

"No," he
said. He took my hand again. "It makes sense that you want to cut loose
and try on the world for size. But only for a little while, Kya. You're smart,
you're practical, and you know the best course for your life to take. Once
you're on that course and your momentum really gets going, it can feel a little
scary. That's why you should find someone with your same tastes to guide you
back when the time comes."

"You don't
think I can take care of myself?" I asked. The words echoed what Dana
Maria had said earlier.

"It’s not
that. I just don't want you to wake up one morning lost. Having a goal keeps
you on track."

I had to agree.
Having solid goals was the only thing that kept me from falling apart when my
parents passed away. "I know. I agree. I'm just not sure my end goal is a
big white house. Lots of people work towards the goal of being happy and
securing their future without mapping out every step."

"Like your
fighter?"

"You can't
possibly think of Fenton Morris as unfocused," I said.

"Then how
about impetus?" Jackson asked. "He can certainly be all over the map
with what he does and what he wants."

"I don't know
if I agree," I said. "Both he and his sister are very driven. They
might not have the house picked out, but I bet they are both working towards
the same kind of security that you are describing."

Jackson snorted.
"What I'm describing is worlds away from what a stripper saves her money
for. You think she's going to earn enough to appear in polite society?"

"I don't
think Dana Maria is interested in polite society. She knows exactly who she is
and doesn't care what other people say."

"But you
do," he said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be testing out this idea of
staying in Vegas on every person you meet."

"I might not
have Dana Maria's confidence, but I'm getting there," I said. "That's
why I'm not narrowing my options down to the safe path."

"That's not
confidence," he disagreed. "That's the long term affect of being
stared at by men. She thinks she's in control, she thinks she confident, but
she's really just begging for attention."

"You were
paying attention to her when I arrived," I said. I swallowed and wished I
had the words back.

Jackson laughed
and poured himself more wine. "Like I pay attention to the label on a wine
bottle. Then, I drink what I want and toss it away. And, trust me, there are
better vintages than her."

He smiled and I
knew it was supposed to be a compliment. I smiled back and sipped my wine while
my skin crawled. Jackson was perfect on the outside– a handsome gentleman, a
professional golfer known for his grace under pressure, and a widely coveted
and charming date.

He just was not
the man for me.