Page 19 of Bad Boy Done Wrong
Ethan ignored that. “Give her elevator sex. She works at Eastman hospital. Take her in the service elevator.”
Zach studied him for a moment. “And how do you know about this service elevator?”
Ethan smirked. “Had to review the security tapes once. Sex central, man.”
“Ass.”
Ethan snorted. “Hey, maybe a sex tape.”
“I’m going now, unless you’re planning to arrest me.”
Ethan socked his arm. Hard. “Just trying to help you out.”
Zach socked him back. Harder.
Ethan chuckled. “Taking her to your old high school haunt. I mean, really. Use some imagination.”
“You done?”
“Yes, Professor. Carry on your merry way.”
He turned on his heel and stalked back to the truck, pissed at Ethan’s implication that he was a wuss. No more accommodations. Carrie wanted bad boy and that was exactly what he’d give her. Put up or shut up time.
~ ~ ~
Carrie wasn’t sure what to say after that weird almost “Sunday drive” interrupted by Ethan. Zach was silent, looking kind of pissed as he drove them out of the park.
She broke the silence in an attempt to put a pleasant spin on the evening. “Well, I’m just glad you didn’t get arrested for trespassing.” Ethan had scared the crap out of her. Now that she thought about it, he probably recognized Zach’s truck. “He was just messing with you, wasn’t he?”
Zach grunted in response.
“So maybe we could just drive to another private spot.”
“We’re going back to my place.”
“Oh, okay. How about we—”
“Carrie, I don’t take requests. You want this, you go back with me and we do things my way. You don’t, I’ll drop you off at your car.”
She gulped. That was abrupt. Also a little thrilling. He sounded so badass.
“You mean Jane Bond?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll have to think about it.”
“Time’s up once I park.”
She didn’t have to think long. She was still revved up from earlier and the unexpected cop encounter had added a bit of danger. Now that everything had turned out okay, she was actually feeling really good. Charged up and alive.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll be Jane.”
He reached over and gave her upper thigh a small squeeze, his long fingers curling intimately around the inside of her leg. Her body responded with a pulsing throb.
She let out a shaky breath. He wasn’t much for conversation, but he got his point across in a direct primal way. His thigh squeeze told her two things—he was happy with her decision and he was also reassuring her that it would be a good time. Somehow he knew exactly what she needed to hear.
When they got back to his place, he put a hand on the small of her back and guided her directly to his bedroom. Once inside, he shut the bedroom door, grabbed her and pinned her against it. The breath whooshed from her lungs and her stomach dropped. He pinned her wrists over her head and kissed her, his leg nudging hers apart and pressing close. The jumpiness in her belly shifted to a low ache.
