Page 14 of Bad Boy Done Wrong
Chapter Five
Zach strode through Curtains & More, telling himself he hadn’t really lied to Carrie by not explaining he was actually a respected anthropologist and not a bad boy. It wasn’t like she’d asked what he did for a living. But it was a point of pride for him that he acted honorably, always honest, always keeping his word. A twinge of guilt had him gritting his teeth as the words he’d heard so many times as a kid rang through his head.He’s a bad seed. You can’t trust him. Sneaky, a liar and a thief.His parents’ reputation had stuck to him. They’d been in organized crime. They weren’t the muscle; they were the brains. His dad died before Zach was born. His mom, he remembered. She loved him, played with him, and taught him stuff. At three she taught him how to read, at four she taught him basic addition and subtraction using gummi bears, and at five she taught him “life skills.” Namely how to pick locks, break a window without damaging your hand, and how to blend in a crowd. She left him at six with a friend for what was supposed to be a week and never returned. After two weeks, his babysitter took off for places unknown with her boyfriend, leaving him alone. He’d wandered to the corner store, stole a hot dog from the case and ate it and shoved another one in his pocket for later. But then he got greedy and stole some gummi bears. Social Services picked him up. That was his first foster home.
He ran away so many times no one wanted to keep him. A runaway who regularly stole food and cash was a pain in the ass. He’d used all his “life skills” in running away, looking forward to the day when he found his mom and could tell her all about it. That day never came. At nine he landed in the same foster home as Ethan, who told him to quit being a stupid runaway because his basketball team needed a tall kid. That was when he met the Campbell brothers and their dad, Joe, in the Police Athletic League. He ran away once more a month later, but by then Joe had his back. It was Joe who tracked him down, helped him get the answers he needed about his mom, and let Zach know he didn’t have to run away anymore because he was now home with his new family. Zach was smart enough to know when he’d lucked into a good thing. Besides, his mom had died attempting a jewel heist. Sounded like something out of the movies. Except real life wasn’t that glamorous. Someone else got to the jewels first. When she tracked them down to a drug cartel in Mexico, she’d attempted to steal the jewels with some backup muscle. None of them made it out of there alive. He liked to think she did it as a way to secure a future for the two of them. The alternative—greed—just pissed him off.
He stopped in the curtain rod section, looking for some of those tie things that held curtains open. He wanted thick velvet for Carrie’s Jane Bond fantasy. Yeah, he’d figured that one out. “Call me Bond. Jane Bond.” Pretty obvious she wanted to try some girly light bondage. See? Even if he did leave out a small occupational fact, he was actually doing an honorable thing, keeping her safe and protected while she experimented. Seriously, was he just supposed to let some random asshole she met in a bar tie her to the bedposts and do God knew what to her? This bad-boy ruse was a noble calling for him. In some ways, you could say he was her knight in sexy armor.
His mind wandered back to the day before, Carrie on top, her face an expression of pure feminine bliss as he held her by the hips, controlling her movements, making her take more and more, pushing her past the first orgasm to a deeper one that had her screaming his name. He’d flipped her under him so damn fast, driving hard and deep, no holding back, and she’d loved it. Fuck. He felt himself getting hard. He looked to the ceiling, trying to think of anything but that. Okay, maybe his intentions with her weren’t completely noble. He’d always held back in the bedroom, trying not to be too aggressive, too rough, but with Carrie he could be himself. She’d welcomed his natural aggression from that very first night when, in a haze of lust, he’d lost control. His usually carefully choreographed moves of slow seduction deserted him when she bit his neck hard enough to sting and then tried to climb his body, urging him to take her. He ripped her panties and took her fast and furious right up against the wall, pounding into her as her shouts of ecstasy rang in his ears.Yes! Yes! Yes!
Great, now he had full-on wood.
“Can I help you?” an elderly white-haired woman wearing a red Curtains & More smock inquired.
He shifted slightly so he wouldn’t be brought in on an indecency charge. “Yeah. I’m looking for—” he cleared his throat “—velvet curtain ties.”
“Oh, you have to buy them as a set with the curtains. Right this way.”
He followed the woman to the adjacent section.
“What color, dear?” she asked.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Well, what color are your walls?”
A rare heat crept up his neck. “I got it from here, thanks.”
“Oh, well, okay. I’m Jean if you need anything else. I’ll be right over there straightening the hand towels.” She pointed. “See, right across the aisle.”
“Thanks,” he muttered.
As soon as she left, he started feeling up the curtain samples, looking for the right thickness and softness. Sure, he could’ve used some rope from the much more manly hardware store or even a couple of his ties, but he wanted something that wouldn’t chafe Carrie’s delicate skin. It was his first time initiating a woman into sexual pleasure and he took that honor seriously. He found a deep blue velvet that felt right, grabbed the set, and headed for the register.
Damn, a long line. He stared at the curtains, hoping she’d be available tonight. The more he thought about Carrie and her “traditional” ex—translation: controlling repressed jerk—the more he thought she needed the role play of bad boy, naughty girl to fully experience the passion she craved. It was abundantly clear to him that she was a good girl trying on the naughty-girl role. Not only did she have a naturally sweet demeanor, even when she claimed to be “pissed off,” but she’d also taken the time, the first night they’d met, to have a frank discussion of his medical history, previous partners, and favored birth control on the drive over to his apartment. A very responsible good-girl thing to do. She then informed him that the minute his pants were down, condom had to be on because she couldn’t wait to have him inside her.
Don’t think about it.
He was never going to get rid of this woody if he kept thinking about naked Carrie. He pictured her in that sexy purple dress she wore when he’d first met her at Garner’s. Okay, now this was just pissing him off. There was no way he wanted her approaching another guy in a bar, looking for a willing participant for her wish list.Hewas willing and able. Case closed. The best part was, neither of them were truly vulnerable as long as they played a role.
All of that led him to the conclusion that he was still an honest man, acting honorably in both word and deed. And, damn, he couldn’t wait to tie her up.
~ ~ ~
Carrie didn’t care if it made her look too eager, she texted Zach on her break during her shift at the hospital on Monday. So what if they hooked up yesterday? She had a lifetime of deprivation to make up for.
Carrie:I get off work at nine. You around?
Zach:Yup.
A man of few words, but who needed words for hot alpha sex?
When she got home that night, she took a shower and used the vanilla body wash she knew he liked. She also had grapefruit and lavender, but she figured she’d stick to what worked. She took the time to do her hair and makeup and put on her decadent new matching black silk bikini-style panties and pushup bra set. Her underwear drawer was neatly divided into the work side—plain white cotton bras and panties—and the pleasure side—silks and satins and lace. Not that she’d ever worn this sexy stuff for Edward. He’d hated the one time she’d bought some sexy lingerie, said she looked like a prostitute and it was beneath her. She’d felt such shame, but no more. This beautiful stuff was all new for her new life.
She slipped her little black dress on and then, the final touch, the slutty black heels. Zach had a thing for the heels, leaving them on her that first night. Until she’d accidentally stabbed him in the back with one of the spiky heels. Still, they were by far her sexiest shoes.
She grabbed her phone and saw she had another text from Zach.This wish list is a monogamous thing.
She pressed a hand to her heart, touched by the unexpected sweetness. His focus was solely on her. And since hers was likewise, she texted back.Duh.
