Page 10 of Bad Boy in Her Bed

She groaned and stretched out like a cat before sliding her hands down her sides and hooking her thumbs into the elastic.Her hips rose up, her back arching with a sexuality so intense he had to dig the tip of the pen into his thigh to center himself as the desire to mount her and fuck her senseless barreled through him.

“This better?”

“For the drawing, yeah,” he muttered, shifting in his seat.“You’re kind of testing the strength of my professionalism, though.”

Her lips turned up and he took a deep breath, forcing himself to envision the final stretch of the piece before he made a move he would definitely regret.

*

Jocelyn glanced overher shoulder and watched Birch as he sat motionless on his stool, his eyes locked on her lower back.

He was right when he said people would talk after seeing them together.Her phone buzzed all afternoon, old girlfriends touching base with conventional welcome backs before they dove right into Birch Baker.

Did she know who he was?

Did she remember his family?

And, most importantly, was she fucking him?

Because apparently Birch Baker and his sizable cock had cut a swath through Epson over the years.And from the sounds of it, there wasn’t a single conquest who wouldn’t go back for more.

If you’re going to go slumming, those Baker boys are the ones to ride into the gutter,one of her friends had messaged, a series of emojis punctuating her point.

It weighed on her, the flippant way those women she’d known for years dismissed him as little more than a walk on the wild side, a fun distraction.Because although she definitely wanted to take this particular Baker for a spin, what she already knew about him made her want to know more, made her want to break through the wall stilling his hand and silencing his tongue.

It made her hungry for a taste of a man who wouldn’t use her for her connections, who had nothing to gain by having her on his arm.And that hunger was making her bolder than she should be, no matter how right it felt to have his pen marking her skin.

The seconds ticked by, the heavy bass of the music filling the room as he swallowed and got back to work.His pen feathered over her, and she inhaled sharply while he cursed under his breath.

“Did you make a mistake?”she smiled.

“No, and I don’t intend to.”

The next ten minutes were sweet torture as he worked along her tailbone.With his forearm resting on her ass, she could feel the flex of his muscles as his pen danced across her skin.Each breath he took pressed his body against her thighs, every subtle shift keeping her body tuned in to his movements.

His pen lifted from her and for a deliciously excruciating moment, she thought he might make the move she was waiting for.

Until she heard the scrape of his chair’s wheels move away from her, followed by the unmistakable sound of latex gloves snapping off.

“Looks good,” he stated.“Why don’t I give you a minute to check it out before I walk you to your car?”

Chapter Five

Birch sat onhis front porch and watched as Grey’s old hatchback disappeared around the corner.His brother was anxious to get to campus before the fight for a parking spot took up half his morning.

The early light of dawn was starting to break on the horizon, serving as a reminder of Jocelyn’s parting words the night before.

Same path, same time.If you think you can handle it.

He stared at the beetle waddling across the cement, willing it to pick a direction for him.

If he turned around and went inside, he could get a few more hours of sleep before his first appointment.Maybe take another shower to wash away the hint of perfume he swore he could smell on his skin.Perhaps he could forego his bed and get to work early to straighten up the shop.

The beetle meandered for a moment before toddling toward the driveway, making his decision for him.

Tightening his laces, he checked the pocket of his shorts for his keys and jogged over to his truck, pulling the door closed as he started the engine.Easing onto the empty street, he drove toward the trails, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.

Although he could technically blame the beetle for making the choice for him, it was his own foot sitting heavy on the gas as he drove through the quiet town, his hand hitting the signal as he turned into the park.

---