Page 7 of Bad Boy Done Wrong
Chapter Four
The Morning After Continued…
Carrie’s morning-after glow ignited to sharp need as Zach carried her like a sexy caveman back to his apartment. She landed with a soft plop on his living room sofa. He sat next to her and her breath caught at the massive erection tenting his boxers. She met his eyes, his expression awfully serious considering he was just as turned on as she was. Was her list really that disturbing?
“No one’s ever carried me like that,” she informed him.
He blinked and continued staring wordlessly, seeming to be waiting for her to say something more.
“I admit it turned me on,” she added.
He flashed a smile. “Good to know. Your list is very curious.”
She smoothed out her purple dress and crossed her legs like the lady she’d been raised to be. “Is it?” she asked demurely.
“Did you do some research?” he asked, sounding oddly academic about it. “Was it based on theKama Sutra?”
She laughed. “No, even better. Romance novels.”
“I’m not familiar with that context.”
“Most men aren’t. Though it would definitely help with male-female relations. Alpha-bad-boy sex is the best.” She got a heat flash just thinking about it.
His large hand settled high on her upper thigh, heating her through the thin fabric of her dress. “Like last night?”
She nodded and uncrossed her legs.
His hand slid to the inside of her thigh, where it stayed frustratingly close but not touching where she desperately wanted him. “Can I see the list again?”
She hesitated, feeling a little squirmy about sharing the list after his WTF reaction. Part of her wished she’d never mentioned it. Maybe she could just act it out with some instructive hand signals.
His hand left her leg and cupped her shoulder instead. “Carrie.”
She sighed. “Can you just pretend you never saw it?”
He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m dying to see it again.”
She lifted her chin, trying to appear above a shoulder squeeze even as she warmed at the spot. “Why?”
“I’m trying to figure out what everything means.”
This was understandable. In fact, she was a little worried she’d been so subtle with her euphemisms that no one wouldeverunderstand her list. The first list she’d written had been much more explicit. There’d been an incident. She’d meant to text it to her friend Lauren, who’d insisted she take a look at it before Carrie shared it with a guy, and accidentally sent it to her eighty-year-old neighbor Larry. They were next to each other in her contacts. (She was his in-case-of-emergency person.)
Now Larry wouldn’t stop smiling at her.
This embarrassing reason for her euphemisms was not something she was prepared to share with Zach despite his fine alpha qualities. She gave him a once-over from thick dark hair to the sexy beard to lean muscular body and, yup, still hard. So very male. Then he startled her with an extremely insightful observation.
“I gave you number six, I’m pretty sure. A wallbanger.”
Her eyes widened, impressed he’d read between the lines of her euphemisms. Translating “I’d like to meet Harvey” to “I desperately want a wallbanger” took a smart man. Harvey Wallbanger was one of those dirty-sounding cocktails ready-made for a euphemism.
“I thought this was a onetime thing,” she said, hoping he’d say it wasn’t. He’d been amazing last night, but she knew bad boys didn’t do long-term. If it was more than a onetime thing,maybeshe’d show him the list again.
He brushed her hair back over her ear. “You’ll probably see me around sometimes. We know a lot of the same people. And didn’t you say you live not far from here?”
“Yes.”
“Then we can be friends and friends share stuff. Wouldn’t you like the guy point of view on it?”
