Win a Filthy Bad Boy: A Bad Boy Romance (5 page)

“For us. You're my agent. Things could get tricky,” Chad said, catching a box of cigarettes that Dean tossed his way.

“So you want me to act like nothing happened?”

“That's not what I said.”

“You're unbelievable, Chad. You sweet talk me into the sack and now you're worried about hurting me?”

“Heather, it was just a bit of fun.”

“Well, we can keep having fun. Or have you gotten bored with me?”

“Bored? What makes you think I'm bored?”

“You've just ditched me out of the… wait, is this because of the TV show?”

Chad groaned. “The media is going to dig into my private life now more than ever. I don't want your face put out there as Mr. Steel’s latest conquest.”

“Oh, the irony. I managed to snag you the main role on
Win a Filthy Bad Boy
and you're ending our little fuck sessions because of it. You are an asshole, Chad, you know that?”

“I know.” He was naturally thick-skinned and could care less how the media portrayed him: a relentless woman chaser, a reckless driver, and the young billionaire blowing his dead father’s fortune on parties and alcohol. Or there was the more unusual aspects of his character that tabloids would entertain. They made him sound like a circus freak; journalists might just as well come out and shout,

Everyone, gather around, gather around, step right up, come witness the world's number one male escort, the miracle of Mr. Steel’s enormous junk. See the damage it has done.

The papers always offered up the trail of hurt women Chad left in his wake. A list of women with stories about his fucked-up personality or his awesome sexual prowess.

“Well, I'm not going to let you off that easy. You’re immature and you need to grow up. You have an oversized ego that perfectly matches your cock. You know how many guys would kill to get what you have, the looks, the money, and the fame? You need to realize what you have before it's too late, Chad.”

“Ouch. You pulled no punches this time, Heather,” Chad said, as he took a drag of his cigarette. There were pearls of wisdom in Heather’s periodic rants, Chad was sure of it, but they never struck a cord or showed him the error of his ways.

“I know. Half of it came from the great friend that I am,” Heather said.

“And the other half?”

“You mean apart from the girl that hates your guts right now?”

“Yes.”

“The other half of me cares as your agent, who is earning eight percent. Well, at least I’m not the sorry sap who has to date you on the show.”

“Yeah, I almost forgot to ask. Who is she?” Chad asked.

“I’m sending you her photo now.”

Chad snuffed his cigarette out on the ground, propped his sunglasses on his forehead and checked out the picture. She was on a beach and in a bikini this time, but there was no doubt it was her.

Bonnie’s picture stared back at him.

“Fuck me,” Chad said.

Chapter Four

Bonnie sat in her cubicle, staring at her computer screen. There on the homepage of the
Love ‘em Escort
agency website was Chad. Why was Chad on the homepage?

Are you that stupid? What do you think?

Bonnie paled at the dawning realization, as the proverbial ton of bricks fell on her head.

He looked as stunning as he had the night she first met him. It was perfect marketing for their business. Chad’s lips curled into a devious, panty-dropping smile, his compelling gray eyes would win over any customer unsure whether to hire a bad boy from the agency. Sure enough, those same eyes managed to pull her in and got her to drop her panties.

Bonnie shrugged off the thought. Scrolling down below the large image of Chad, the caption she read made her heart stop. It said,

Mr. Steel

Bonnie was unsure how long she stared at the screen, unable to collect her thoughts.

“That is what a real man looks like,” Dawn said, breaking through Bonnie’s thoughts. “What I wouldn't give to trade places with you, girl.”

Bonnie bolted upright to see Dawn leaning over her shoulder, gawking at Chad’s picture. “You’re welcome to him,” Bonnie said, and looked on in bewilderment as more women joined them. In a few seconds, Trisha, the receptionist, and the entertainment columnists, Mia and Lisa, came over.

“The cost to hire him for a night is more than I can afford,” Dawn said. Someone shouted, “I heard it’s free, just a damn long time to wait.”

“Well in that case, I might just consider it.” Dawn covered the food column of the paper, and she worked a few cubicles from Bonnie.

“I’m pretty sure Jeff would mind,” Trisha said.

“Oh, I love my husband,” Dawn said, “but Mr. Steel would just be a guilty fantasy.” A mother of three pre-teens, Dawn worked while Jeff stayed at home and looked after their kids.

“I agree. Mr. Steel is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.” The voice came from a woman. Bonnie turned slightly to see Janet, the office porter, had join the conversation. The audience that amassed around Bonnie’s cubicle appeared to include every woman in the building.

“Mr. Steel has the world’s finest ass, I swear,” Dawn said. “If I were in your place, they wouldn't even have to call me. I'd be outside Chad’s mansion gates in a flash.”

The room rocked as the girls erupted into laughter. Inoffensively lewd innuendo-filled comments were followed by even more chuckling, which degraded into wistful hums and sighs.

Bonnie had the impression that she was the focus of envy of every woman in the room. The girls eagerly sifted through Chad’s photos to find shots of his naked body. Even Mia, who seemed determined to emphasize her indifference, encouraged Dawn to root through Chad’s modelling photos.

“Found it,” Dawn yelled, when she found a photo of Chad bare-assed with his back turned. They greeted the picture with a chorus of “oh-my-gods” and “woah!,” squealing with howls and throaty delightful laughs. The girls cheered when Dawn decided to save Chad’s butt as Bonnie’s desktop background.

Bonnie had to sit through the entire ordeal. Mildly annoyed, she never wanted to be on the show in the first place and Chad was just plain bad news. He stripped her of the will to resist him as effortlessly as he stripped her of her clothing.

“This is sexual torture for someone who hasn't had any in months,” Lisa said. “My battery-operated friend is getting a bit boring.” Dawn and Lisa were the two most vocal women in the workplace about their sex life. “I need a Mr. Steel in my life.”

“I don't know about that,” Bonnie said.

Chad’s colossal body flashed across her mind from their night together. Lethally sexy, it radiated heat and hunger. The sheen of sweat that made his muscles ripple in the light, his large member, which frightened and allured her. And when it penetrated her, she lost all sense of herself as his continual thrusts spurred her desires, intensifying her need. It drove her mad.

“Believe me, it's sexual torture for all of us, jonesing for a piece of Mr. Steel,” Trisha said. “You're so lucky, Bon.”

“I call bullshit,” Mia said. “It a reality TV show, not an adult movie—”

“Adult movie?” Dawn asked, interrupting Mia. “I think the phrase you're looking for is porn?”

“Oh, be quiet. All I'm saying is that they're not going to let Bonnie and Chad do the dirty on TV. Besides, he's still an escort. I'm sure his escort agency won't allow him to prostitute himself for the show.”

A debate followed and the group was divided between those who thought Bonnie would score with the Chad and those who thought she had no chance. Although Bonnie tried to tune it out by focusing on her emails, she couldn't help but pick up on the undertone some of the girls were expressing: she was too average to capture the interest of a guy like Chad DeMarco.

But she already had a one-night stand with Chad, and although succumbing to a guy like him left her too mortified to tell her another living soul, at least she never had to go through the
Love ‘em
escort agency. All it took was the special alchemic concoction of booze, bad decision making, and raging hormones to summon a guy with a beautiful face and the body of a God. Bonnie visualized his penetrating gray eyes and lazy grin with vivid clarity.

She drifted off, recalling the overwhelmingly delicious sensation of his tip stroking her perfect spot, rippling pleasure from her toes, thighs, breasts, and eventually across her entire body.

Whoa, I don't need this right now!
Bonnie shook her head and tried to quell the hormonal mutiny inside her.

Eventually, Al’s voice tore through the office space as he yelled for everyone to get back to work, causing the congregation around Bonnie’s desk to disperse. This left Bonnie staring at Chad’s perfectly sculptured ass.

Before she could remove the picture, the unwanted memory of when she stuck her hand down his pants entered her mind and took root. While they kissed on her bed, she sat up against the headboard, grabbed hold off his hard cheeks and pulled him to her, causing his manhood to poke through his pants and press into her.

He was so electrifying, she had never seen someone so strikingly good-looking. When he pulled away from her, leaving her lips tingling from the touch of his, he went on to nibble on her neck, gently grazing her skin.

Even as she sat in her cubicle, alone, she could still feel the heat of his breath as it grazed the skin of her cheek, she could still hear their breath quicken, still taste that delicious mouth that sneered at her. As for his scent, his cologne—the guy smelled amazing.

With some difficulty, Bonnie managed to remove Chad’s ass from her desktop. Yet, she couldn't forget the flash of his gray eyes; she wanted more than anything to forget those eyes and how they riled the insatiable lust inside her. And every time she recalled the way his mouth quirked up into his cocky grin, she wish she'd wiped it off his gorgeous face. Even when he wasn't smiling, it felt as if he were secretly mocking her.

The irony was that the only time she felt as if he weren't mocking her was when he was deep inside her. But she would never again let Chad DeMarco get the better if her.

***

Bonnie worked at her desk all through the afternoon, but with thoughts of Chad swirling through her head, it was difficult. Before she knew it, she found herself back on the
Love ‘em
website reading through reviews about their services. She searched Mr. Steel’s reviews, specifically.

Five Stars: an amazing experience

Being penetrated by Mr. Steel was painful at first, the guy is so huge! But he was gentle and it became a most pleasurable experience. I would recommend Mr. Steel over any satisfying and exciting activity. He is an addiction.

Best sex of my life!

I had never done the male escort thing, to be honest, I can reel in the best of them, but Mr. Steel is not the type of guy you meet at a bar or in a club. He's a once in a lifetime experience and boy did he deliver!

A perfect Fuck!

It's like he knows exactly when and how to touch you.

The Mr. Steel Experience: if you haven't had it, you haven't lived

Jesus, what he can do with his tongue is the stuff of legends. Unbelievable, unbelievable, unbelievable! The man is greater than the myth!

A Guy who likes to give and not just take!

Although, I don't mind saying he took every inch of me, Mr. Steel is a rare breed. As a new feminist, I truly believe him and his massive tool are compensation for all the machine-gun fire sex I've had in my life. He is truly giving back! It doesn’t feel like he's just out for himself.

I mean he's a billionaire! He’s sharing the wealth.

There were over one hundred five-star reviews. Bonnie searched until she found a one star. Excited and relieved, she read it.

A big mistake!

Don't do it, it becomes an addiction. Ever since I hired Mr. Steel, I can only get an orgasm from him. Sucks.

Steer clear.

The warning resonated in Bonnie’s mind, but so too did Chad. Thinking about him and reading all the reviews caused her to grow frustrated. When he fingered her, her cunt closed around his fingers like a Venus fly trap.

She read more reviews.