Page 55 of Bad Boy Next Door
Seventeen
Nick
Istood in front of her door like an idiot. Iwasan idiot. An idiot about to totally humiliate himself.
Except she’d already done that, hadn’t she? She’d thrown my flowers into the pool, and I couldn’t believe what she’d done to my chocolates. She’d likely done something horrible to the card, too, but I had yet to discover what. Maybe pieces of it were also at the bottom of the pool.
I knocked on the door one final time, and it pulled away from under my knuckles. Phone in her hand, Jade had her wild dark hair tied back, showing off her fresh face and those cherry-red lips I wanted to devour.
“Oh.” She frowned. “It’s you.”
She started to close the door, but I blocked it with my body. She had a peephole and had probably known it was me. I had a sneaking suspicion that slamming the door in my face was some kind of performance.
I kept one hip on the door, holding it open as she pushed from the other side. It took zero effort on my part, so she wasn’t pushing back hard.
“Let’s have it,” she said. “What’s your pathetic offering this time? Balloons? Fruit basket? Mini muffins? Cupcakes?”
“Maybe I should get you more chocolates,” I said. “Something happened to the first box.”
She winced.
“Whoever got ahold of your chocolates has serious anger issues.” I fought a grin. “I’m still trying to scrape chocolate out of the grout.”
Jade had melted the chocolates, smeared some of them on my door, then somehow squished the rest, in the flattened box, under the threshold. I was going to have ant issues for months.
Her expression hardened. “It’s too bad you don’t have a slave to scrub your grout.”
“Speaking of slaves.” I leaned forward. “I have a proposition.”
She eased up on the door a little, curiosity taking over her adorable face.
“Come on, Jade. You’re not even going to let me in?”
She backed up, and I followed her inside. As always, her place smelled fantastic—this time of garlic and cheese.
“What are you cooking?” My stomach growled, even though Mac and I had shared two huge pizzas not an hour ago.
Hands on her hips, she turned back. “I’m not your servant, Nick. Not anymore. I don’t need to cook for you, remember?”
“Believe me. I remember. And I get why you’re angry, but I think I’ve figured out a way to make it up to you.”
“I don’t know…” She leaned on the arm of the sofa, squeezing together her braless tits. “I’m not a very forgiving person.”
“How about we turn the tables?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Turn them how?”
“Turn them so I have to do anythingyouask.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes widened. “Anything I ask?”
“Yes.Anything.” I emphasized the word to make my meaning clear.
“For how long?” She bit her lower lip.
My balls tightened. I hadn’t thought through the details. “Let’s say, twenty-four hours?”
She folded her arms over her tits. “A month.”
