Win a Filthy Bad Boy: A Bad Boy Romance (7 page)

BOOK: Win a Filthy Bad Boy: A Bad Boy Romance
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“Hey,” said a voice above the thud of the loud bass.

 

It's him
.

 

Bonnie turned to see the last person she expected to find. “Henry?” she responded, incredulous. As if the night couldn't get any better, her ex stood in front of her with a stern look on his face.

 

“What are you doing here, Bonnie?” he asked.

 

Bonnie gritted her teeth; she didn't like his scolding tone. Bonnie could tell by his flushed appearance that he was drunk.

 

“I was invited. And you?” Bonnie asked, folding her arms.

 

Henry was formally dressed, in a gray suit that hugged his shoulders. He still looked handsome.

 

“Anya knows the promoter, so we managed to get in for free,” he said. “So how you holding up? Manage to get that Stephanie story yet?”

 

Bonnie considered Anya a friend before she found out she was sleeping with Henry.

 

“I'll be working on it soon,” Bonnie said. She didn't want to tell him about the reality TV show.

 

“Aww, you keep at it,” he said, patronizingly, patting Bonnie on the shoulder.

 

Bonnie pursed her lips. What she ever saw in him was a mystery. After he cheated, Jill said he was a total dick and not worth another second of her time, back then Bonnie actually defended him. Now, however, she had a sense of total clarity. In their relationship, one part of her justified his manipulative treatment because she wanted to be loved and cherished. The other part of her outright ignored his neglect.

 

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than—” Bonnie started to say before Henry cut her off.

 

“Maybe we can catch up and go for a coffee one day?” Henry inched closer, his eyes trailing Bonnie’s body. “You still look beautiful. What do you think?”

 

She barely had time to process what he was asking, before he jerked away from her. His demeanor shifted, he took a few steps back, and waved to a woman skirting her way around a group of people. Bonnie's attention roamed past Henry, to the advancing woman. Anya.

 

“Well as I live and breathe, if it isn't Bonnie,” Anya said as she immediately clung to Henry's arm.

 

“Anya,” Bonnie said, trying to calm the anger brewing inside her, as she let a scowl form.

 

“How are you holding up?” Anya asked, her nasal voice sounding amused.

 

Anya wore a stunning red close-fitting dress that she must have gone through some trouble to squeeze into, as it fitted perfectly around her slender figure. Once Bonnie’s close friend since college, they stayed up at night in their dorms watching movies, eating popcorn, and chatting. Bonnie supported her through a tough break up, when it turned out the guy she was seeing cheated on her. And now, more than one year after helping Anya overcome betrayal, Bonnie found herself a victim of the same betrayal.

 

Henry was blinking double time, evidently, crapping bricks. Bonnie would have enjoyed watching him squirm, had the sight of Anya holding onto him not felt like a punch in the chest.

 

Bonnie said, “Well, I’ve had just about enough of…”

 

“It's my birthday today; don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?” Anya said. She cocked her head and added, “Bruce, the promoter is giving me the VIP treatment. If you're lucky, I can introduce you. He knows a lot of celebrities; it might help your career.” She touched Bonnie's arm, smiling gleefully, obviously expecting an argument and waiting to combat it.

 

Bonnie wanted to slap Anya hard across the face, but she wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. Instead, she turned and rushed into the restroom. She could just hear Anya laughing hysterically behind her as she ran off.

 

Bounding directly into the bathroom, the sight of an open stall felt like an immediate godsend. She locked the door and leaned against it. Feeling so alone and angry, she groaned, annoyed at how she’d given them the satisfaction of seeing her weak.

 

When she found out Henry was cheating on her, she ended things with him pretty quickly. It was no big loss. True, Henry had a great jawline, impeccable hair, and a great fashion sense, but aside from those superficial qualities, he never had much else to his personality.

 

Anya was tall and beautiful with a good figure. She could eat whatever she liked and never seemed to struggle to keep the pounds off. Her father was a wealthy venture capitalist who gave her everything she wanted. Guys fell head over heels for her. Bonnie often wondered what Anya got from ruining her relationship, when she could have had any guy she wanted.

 

“You’re a total asshole, Anya!” Bonnie shouted to the empty restroom. Holding her fingers on her temples, she appeared to be fighting off a migraine, when in fact, she was fighting back tears.

 

She staggered out of the stall, the need to pee having suddenly left her. Now, all she wanted was to be done with this night.

 

Leaving the restroom, she was relieved to find Henry and Anya were not waiting outside. As she looked anxiously around for Jill, her bag vibrated with the chime of a text, barely audible over the thudding bass. She took out her phone, swiped her fingers across the screen and saw Jill’s message. It read that she was going for a drive with Dean. Bonnie assumed by Dean, she was referring to the guy in the business suit.

 

“Jeez Jill, again?” Bonnie asked herself. Jill disappearing with random guys was turning into something of a habit, an irresponsible, careless, and dangerous habit. She reminded herself to speak to Jill about it tomorrow.

 

“Maybe this'll put a smile on your face,” Richie said, passing her a drink. “He's bound to show up soon. One thing about Chad, he knows how to make an entrance.”

 

Bonnie took a cautious sip of her drink. “I'm not looking for him,” she shouted above the loud bass.

 

“What?” Richie said, putting a hand behind his ear and leaning in to her.

 

“I said…” But Bonnie stopped, suddenly aware of Richie’s change in demeanor. He turned toward the entrance of the club where there was a sudden commotion.

 

Because in walked Chad.

 

Bonnie's stomach somersaulted. She hadn't seen him since the night he knocked her picture off the wall. And instantly, she hated his guts all over again. Chad walked in like he owned the place. A god in his own right.

 

People flocked to him as if he were the biggest star in the room. Even Richie rushed over to him. Bonnie thought it was a good time to take a seat, partly because the entrance was blocked, and she wasn't getting out that way. But for the most part, it was because of a sudden change in her physicality; her legs… they were shaking. Some unknown force had taken over her body and decided she didn’t need to be standing any longer.

 

Bonnie observed that most of the playboys in the club who tried to buddy up to Chad wore similar hairstyles and matching outfits; they resembled him down to the five o'clock shadow. It appeared Jill wasn't the only one who stalked Mr. Steel’s Instagram. Celebrities and fans alike all rattled off questions at him.

 

Bonnie couldn't bear it any longer, She couldn't stand the sight of someone like Chad getting so much attention. She pulled out her cellphone, and there was a message from Jill. It read:

 

Dean knows Chad!

 

Bonnie lifted her head in time to glimpse Henry stutter-stepping his way toward her. She frowned and looked away. She had exactly zero desire whatsoever to speak with her ex-boyfriend.

 

Bonnie's palms grew sweaty and her heart began to pound like a sledgehammer, when a shadow descended on her. Peering up, she gasped. Bonnie stared into the eyes of the man who she had slept with that night.

 

Chad DeMarco.

 

“You're late,” she said. They were the only two in the club; everyone and everything swam away in a blur of rising heat.

 

"Are you always this friendly to your boyfriends?”

 

“You're not my boyfriend,” Bonnie said. “Don't flatter yourself.”

 

“I gave you an orgasm, didn't I?” he said. “Must count for something.”

 

That fucking dick,
Bonnie thought. He was a real piece of work, a man-whore, and she was just another victim of his arrogant behavior.

 

“To everyone else, you’re this panty-melting sex god. Well, not to me.” Bonnie, knew her words were a lie; all she could think about since that night was him. The heat of him inside her—pleasure and pain, lust and fulfilment, hard and soft—made her cunt writhe in anticipation of their next session. She had no way of telling her body that Chad was a one-time deal.

 

“You didn't like it?” he asked, a smirk spread across his kissable lips.

 

“You never told me you were an escort…” Bonnie said. No one ever made her feel the way he had—needed, sexy, powerful.

 

“You haven't answered my question,” he responded.

 

Bonnie’s face was searing hot. She wanted to liquefy and sink in a puddle of humiliation. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him. Although her mind went blank, Bonnie opened her mouth to respond, when she was cut off by Richie.

 

“Mr. Steel. Your VIP booth is waiting, sir. Whatever you need, beers on tap, free drinks all night, and the owner has sent you a bottle of
Armand de Brignac
Brut Rose Champagne, our finest bottle,” Richie said.

 

Bonnie sighed as the tension between her and Chad evaporated.

 

Richie continued, “…and a few models will be joining you and—”

 

“Ditch the models,” Chad said. “I only want her.”

 

“Excuse me, sir?” Richie asked, as if he couldn't believe his ears.

 

Bonnie looked up at Chad, startled. His eyes never left her.

 

No sooner had Chad spoken when things went from bad to worse. A screeching laugh snatched Bonnie’s attention.

 

“Chad? Chad DeMarco?” Anya shouted as she wobbled towards him. Henry followed, sheepishly, behind.

 

“Hey,” Chad said. He couldn't have looked more uninterested if he tried. This didn’t seemed to deter Anya in the slightest.

 

“I'm sixty-two on your waiting list,” she said. “I've wanted to meet you for so long.”

 

“Nice to meet you…” Chad said, extending a hand.

 

“Oh, silly me, I'm Anya Husserl,” she said, giggling. “When I saw on your Instagram that you were coming here, I just had to meet you.”

 

Bonnie watched on, from where she sat, and it looked like a car crash happening in slow motion. Henry looked to the floor and balled his fists, Anya seemed about to throw herself at Chad, while Chad’s body language indicated he wasn't interested. Chad wanted out, and seeing Henry, he thought he spotted his opportunity.

 

“Hey, isn't that your boyfriend?” Chad asked, pointing a thumb at Henry.

 

“Well—” Anya said, rolling her eyes.

 

“Yes,” Henry said, stepping forward and shaking Chad’s hand.

 

Seeing them face each other, Bonnie realized that Henry wore his hair similar to Chad’s. Coincidence? Or was Henry a fan? Judging by the Henry’s demeanor, Bonnie went with the latter. Wearing an overeager grin, he stared at Chad with unabashed admiration.

 

“We came here because it's Anya’s birthday,” Henry said.

 

“Richie, send a bottle to their table,” Chad said. “It's on me.” He turned to Bonnie.

 

“Wait,” Anya said, stroking his arm, before holding onto it with a desperation. She wanted him badly. “There's so much I want to ask. You decided to go on
Win a Filthy Bad Boy
. Does that mean you want to settle down?”

 

For some reason Bonnie felt irritated to see Anya touch Chad’s arm.

 

“Nah, the show is pretty much scripted,” he said, turning to leave.

 

“What's she like?” Anya asked, hurriedly. “The skank.”

 

Bonnie swallowed. Her rising panic urged her to leave. She put her glass on the table and stood, deciding that it was better she didn’t stick around.

 

Chad turned and wrinkled his forehead. “Who?” he asked.

 

“The girl they paired you with for the show,” Anya said.

 

“Oh… she's right behind you.”

 

Bonnie stopped mid-stride, and turning, she caught the shocked expressions on Henry and Anya’s faces.

 

“She's my girl for the show.”

 

“Yes,” Bonnie said, looking at Chad. “And this
skank
is just leaving.”

 

Chapter Six

 

.
...he's good looking, that's not to be debated, but Chad’s allure to the opposite sex is the fact that he doesn't give a rat’s ass about what anyone thinks about him.

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