Page 48 of Bad Boy in Her Bed

“Good choice.”Giving his brother a tight smile, he tilted his beer toward the fridge.“Could you grab me one more?”

“Only if you eat some of yesterday’s leftover pizza.”

Mumbling his agreement, he thanked Grey for the beer and the meal, grateful when he was left alone with his misery.

He’d counted fourteen people walking into Serpent’s Tongue from his hideout across the street after he’d left work with a forced smile and a wave to his traitor of a business partner.Each person was in and out in five minutes, the appointments running like clockwork every ten.Some of them he recognized.Most he didn’t.When he realized he was seconds away from launching his truck over the meridian and through the windows of his own shop, he tore off toward home, his stomach as knotted as his muscles.

There was no way he wasn’t going to go down with this ship.Even with the videos sitting on his phone.All they proved was that he wasn’t in the building when the buyers filtered through.

The thought was enough to keep him in a sour mood, especially when it piled onto the stress he was feeling over the booth he had no idea how to set up or run in the morning.The fact that he hadn’t seen Jocelyn for the past two nights only added to it all.Since they parted ways after their reconciliation run, they’d played phone tag and text tag, work and family obligations keeping them on opposing schedules.

And her absence brought the hopelessness back in full force.

“Oh damn, I totally forgot,” Grey hollered from upstairs, snapping him out of the spiral he was sinking into.“There’s a box for Serpent’s Tongue in the living room.It was dropped off a few hours ago.”

Downing the last of his third beer as he stood, he put his plate in the dishwasher and rinsed the empty cans.

No business dealings ever came through his personal address.

He perched on the edge of the sofa and stared at the large box for a few minutes before opening it.The nondescript brown paper and neatly handwritten delivery information contained no return address.Peeling the tape off, he lifted the flaps, pulled out the packing list, and sat back.

He was mentally prepared for a drug shipment, something to frame him or incriminate him.Maybe Ryder knew he was on to him.Maybe Trevor wanted to send a message.Those, he was expecting.

He wasn’t expecting a box of Serpent’s Tongue Ink banners, custom table runners, and swag.

There were stickers and business cards with the company’s info, five t-shirts with the logo he’d created emblazoned across them.He unrolled a dozen small posters of his best work, setting them aside to lift the customized pens, notepads, and lip balms out.Padding the bottom of the box was a Serpent’s Tongue Ink blanket, a small note pinned to the corner.

You.Me.Fireworks.

Carefully repacking the box, he hauled it over to the door, grabbed his keys, and walked to his truck.

*

Jocelyn stood inthe doorway of her hotel room as the elevator chimed and the door slid open.Her smile faltered when Birch stepped into the hall and stalked toward her.His expression and mood were unreadable until he pressed her up against the open door and kissed her, one hand tangling in her hair while he devoured her until she was breathless and panting.

“Well, hello to you too,” she gasped when he released her long enough to pull his shirt over his head, toss it, and zero in on her throat with his tongue.“Want to come in?”

He responded with a grunt against her skin, his fingers popping the button of her fly while he pulled her far enough away from the door to kick it closed.Dropping to his knees, he yanked her jeans off and ran his tongue along the lace trim of her panties.He cupped her ass to keep her where he wanted her while he teased her through the thin fabric of her underwear, growling deep in his chest as he used his teeth to ease her thong off.His lips traveled up between her thighs and along her body as he stood up and pushed her shirt over her head and off her arms.In one smooth move, he grasped her wrists and lifted them up, spun her around, and placed her hands on the wall.

She heard the tearing of foil and the sound of his zipper opening and she arched her back, inhaling sharply when he gripped her hip with one hand and pushed inside her slowly.He stilled in her, his breathing heavy in her ear, his fingers digging into her skin until she pushed her hips back and unleashed his restraint.

He took her fast and rough against the wall, changing the angle of his thrusts until he hit the spot that almost buckled her knees.There was a frantic desperation in the way he clung to her, the way his forehead pressed between her shoulders, the way the muscles in his arms strained as he fought to control his ragged breaths.With one hand, he held hers against the wall, their fingers intertwined.His other arm snaked around her body and kept her in place while he pounded into her, bringing her closer and closer until he fell over the edge with a snarled curse, dragging her with him.

*

Birch squeezed hiseyes shut and tried to regain control of his breathing, his muscles shaking with the effort to avoid crushing Jocelyn against the wall.The iron grip she’d had on his fingers relaxed, her thumbs caressing his in circles as she rocked her hips against his slowly.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, untangling his hand from hers and reluctantly pushing himself off her.“Sorry.Yeah, I’d like to come in.”

She turned lazily against the wall and wrapped her arms around his neck.“Miss me?”

“That obvious?”He grinned, his mind still foggy but clear enough to know that he hadn’t come here with the intention of banging her into the wallpaper.And he wanted her to know it, too.“I just had a miserable day and a shitty night and I came home to that box from Ted’s Prints.You—” He lowered his forehead to hers.“You’re fucking amazing.Thank you.”

“I’m about to totally ruin the mood,” she said with a smile, as she trailed her fingers along his jaw.“It was my dad’s idea and my mom ran with it.I was telling her about the booth over dinner on Thursday and showing her a few pictures on my phone of some of the pieces you’ve done.Then my dad got allthat boy needs to take a course in marketing and learn how to sell himselfand my mom opened her computer and started looking up business classes.The next thing I knew, she was on the phone with Teddy down at the print shop and he was putting together an order based on the images he grabbed off your website.Which, incidentally, needs some serious work.”

“The images or the website?”he murmured, nuzzling her neck and pulling her toward the bed.

She pushed lightly against his shoulders and he sat, leaning back and licking his lips as she climbed onto his lap and ran her hands along the ink on his chest.“Your website.I could barely navigate it, and I’m a seasoned online shopper.”

---