ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE) (4 page)

“Your friend,” I reminded, glancing over her
shoulder again.
Nat,
likely short for
Natalie
, had affixed her attention
onto flirting with the bartender as he mixed her up a cocktail.

“Oh, she’s probably fine,” Clara clarified,
following my gaze. “Natalie knows I’m in a bit of a vulnerable position, so
she’s always on the defensive for me… I mean… wait. Don’t read into that.”

“Don’t worry,” I reassured Clara. “I’m
English
and
a former Marine. It’s not
really in
either
code of ethics for
me to be anything less than a cordial gentleman… Tonight notwithstanding, at
any rate.”

“What, do you get a manual or something?”
Clara teased playfully.

“With the Marines, yes, something of a field
handbook. For the British side, it’s more of an ancient, leather-bound tome,
really…”

“Kept in some dusty old monastery?”

“You’ve seen it, then,” I chuckled.
“Surprised the Elders let you through, usually you have to submit to a
thumb-prick to establish proof of your bloodline…”

We shared a brief laugh, redirecting
ourselves to a nearby bar top. While making brief small talk, Clara drank over
half her beverage and I finished off my whiskey.

“So, what do you do? Besides the banquet
serving, I mean,” I asked her.

“That’s pretty much it. Thrilling stuff,”
Clara answered with a noncommittal shrug. “I start school back up Monday
morning, and that’s going to suck away all of my free time.”

“The university here in town?”

“None other than.”

“I see. I’m enrolled for the semester, too.”

“No kidding,” Clara raised an eyebrow.

I noted that she was going through her drink
kind of quickly... an interesting observation.

“Would have figured you to be already done. I
mean, you’ve gotta be twenty-four, twenty-five, right?”

“I’m twenty-six,” I replied with amusement.
“I did eight years. Two back-to-back enlistments, and now I’m getting back to
reality. How old are
you,
now that I
know that you’re not twenty-one?”

“Don’t worry, I’m eighteen,” she smiled,
taking another long sip from her drink. “Sounds like Uncle Sam’s working out
pretty well for you, then. What brought you to the States?”

“My father,” I told her. “He’s a chemical
engineer and his company sent us stateside to work on a collaborative project
with an oil corporation here. I’m afraid I’m not privy to any more detail than
that, but we’ve been here for about a decade now.”

“A
decade?
”
She gasped with muted surprise, just as I knew that she would.
“
What kind of project takes a
decade
?”

“The kind that’s sort of ongoing, features a
lot of internal bureaucracy, and involves this particular engineer deciding he
quite enjoys the States,” I answered, watching her fight to keep her eyes glued
to me. “But the details are not particularly important. All you need to know is
that, here we are, and have been for quite some time.”

Clara nodded slightly. Just as I was
observing that inhaling her liquor was making her more than a little tipsy, she
popped open her gob, asking loudly: “Why the Marines?”

“It was supposed to straighten me out,” I
chuckled… Didn’t hurt that I couldn’t spend much money if I was tied up in
combat, and I knew that I could get a decent education pretty much anywhere in
the country.”

There was also the small matter of the
Carlyle Fortune, although I wasn’t interested in divulging the
future multimillionaire
aspect of my
backstory to this admittedly attractive stranger just yet.

“Sounds like you made the right move,” she
nodded. “You’re a smart man, Dalton. Pretty handsome, too…”

Clara slid towards me, a dopey smile crossing
her face as she drew near. Instinctively, I reciprocated, drawing her into a
delicious, liquor-stained kiss.

The room faded away from us, its bustling
entertainment a complete afterthought. This young lady was ripe for the
picking, blushing and starting to stumble over her words. She would be molding
clay in my hands; with the right push, I could have her home with me, her
fingernails clawing into my back or gripping my shoulders all night long.

But I had a rule.

They can only be
slightly
drunk.

I don’t bed drunk chicks.

There were two reasons she would have already
started to feel a buzz this strong: either this girl was a lightweight, or the
bartender had fucked up. He could have mistaken my smirk for
make this drink strong
or, somewhat more
likely, he’d just fucked up the ratio of alcohols.

I suspected they were both probably true.

“How are you feeling?” I asked as I pulled
back. She was clearly toasty, grinning toothily and giggling a little.

“I’m good. How are
you?
”

“Never better,” I chuckled. My cock was
straining against my slacks, but I quickly repositioned it and drew up from the
bar table. “Listen, give me your phone. I’m gonna put my number in there. Can I
have yours?”

“Suuure,” Clara replied, handing me her
smartphone. After reminding my new friend here to plug in her passcode, I added
myself as a contact and called my own phone.

“Good. There, now we’re in contact,” I
thought aloud, handing her the phone back. “Listen, let’s get you back to
Natalie. You could probably use a chaperone…”

“No, I’m good though,” Clara insisted.

“Alphabet backwards,” I commanded.

“Ugh. That doesn’t even work right.”

“
Z-Y-X,
W, V-U-T…”
I chimed out in tune.
“S,
R, Q, P, O-N-M-L-K…
”

“That’s… that’s not fair,” she slurred.

“Alphabet backwards, Clara.”

“I… I can’t do it,” she replied. When I
didn’t budge, she finally sighed. “
Z-Y-P,
Q, L-M-N-O-P…
”

“Yeah, we’re going to get… who was it,
Natalie? We’re going to get Natalie for you,” I smiled. “I can’t take you home
like this. You’ll regret it in the morning.”

“I’ll
totally
have sex with you,” she grinned.

“And I believe you,” I countered, furious
that I was turning down willing, beautiful pussy on a silver platter. “But it
wouldn’t be right. Now, just wait right here a moment…”

I parted through the crowd, looking for that
familiar blond hair with gold earrings. I eventually spotted her, dominating
the bartender’s time – to the chagrin of a few other girls, who looked bored
and thirsty.

“Hey, Natalie… your friend’s feeling pretty
good,” I tapped her on her shoulder.

She whirled around, a grin still on her face
from the flirtations. “Where is she? What did you do?”

“Not a thing. But rather than bring her to my
place, I think you might need to be put on babysitter duties…”

Natalie glanced around me to spot Clara, who
was smiling to herself and swaying slightly in her chair.

“Oh good lord, girl, that was
one
drink… Clara must not have eaten
anything at all tonight with that banquet. She was always really terrible about
holding her liquor…” She turned back towards the bartender. “And he’s cute, but
he doesn’t look like he really knows what he’s doing.”

“You see my predicament. Do you need a hand
with her, or are you okay?”

Natalie sighed. “Nah, I’m good.” She looked
up at me with a slight grin. “Very noble of you, though. She’d have probably
fucked your brains out, and here you are, doing the right thing. Not a lot of
guys like that around here.”

“I’m not a bad guy,” I shrugged.

“Yeah… I guess maybe not.” She paused,
fiddling with her words in her head. “Look, sorry if I came off a bit strong
earlier, she’s just… been going through some stuff lately. Kind of a hang-up
from a few months ago.”

“Perfectly fine. You were just sticking up
for your friend. I get it. Listen, I traded numbers with her, but unless you
need anything, I think I’m going to head back home.”

“Nah,” Natalie shook her head, pretending to
roll up her sleeves. “I’ve got this shit from here. You have a good night, and
I’ll be sure to let her know about her Good Samaritan. After all, I make a hell
of a wingwoman when I’m working with someone who’s not an unrepentant
prick
…”

“Glad to hear it. I’m in her phone under
Dalton
if she gets to be a bit much to
handle.”

“Cool beans. See ya.”

With that, I paid out my tab with the
bartender and started walking out of the bar. The placement of things put me
walking straight past Clara's table, and I wound up strolling through her
strike zone.

“You leaving?” She asked morosely.

“I’m afraid so. Long night. I’m in your phone
though, and Natalie’s coming straight over. You take care now. See you soon,
maybe?”

She grabbed me by the tie and pulled me into
a deep, passionate kiss. I was temporarily stunned by the fervor she threw into
it, and I couldn’t help but return the intensity, steadying myself against her
table.

“Goodbye, Dalton,” she sultrily whispered as
we separated lips.

“Bye, Clara,” I huskily replied back.

After that, I walked outside, letting the
brisk air clear my head from what just happened.

What DID just happen?
I asked myself.

When no answer came, I sighed quietly, shook
my head with an amused grin, and began to whistle my way back towards the
parking garage.
Whatever
just
happened, I wasn’t even mad that I wasn’t bringing that fine plate of pussy
home with me.

Which meant that I probably liked the girl.

Well
, I chuckled to myself.
That’s new.

Chapter 4

The following morning, I woke up with only a
mild hangover. As I pulled myself out towards the kitchen, I spotted Natalie on
the couch. Sitting cross-legged with a bowl of cereal, she was lounging in
pajamas that were probably more expensive than my entire bedroom.

Even after a few weeks here, I hadn’t gotten
over how
nice
Nat’s apartment was.
Even if she insisted that it was
ours
and
not just
hers
, I couldn’t pretend to
own any of this opulence.

The far wall was a seamless sheet of glass,
overlooking the river. I had a fantastic view of the distant suspension bridge,
the city park below, and several nearby, aesthetically pleasing buildings.

The floor across the entire apartment was a
rich, polished green tile, which worked well with our premium black kitchen
appliances, stone white countertops, and concrete walls.

As for our living room itself, a large, black
sectional couch with matching ottoman and chaise dominated the area, facing
away from the back bedrooms. Front and center was a wall-mounted flat-screen
smart TV, perfectly suited for her fixation on binge-watching her streamed
shows.

Rounding out Natalie’s
other
major vice was a corner bar area, close to her bedroom
(naturally). It featured glasses that were tucked away neatly with a discreet
wine cooler.

Finally, the kitchen ran alongside the living
room, stretching out directly in front from my bedroom door. The left side
became a long island between two pillars, whereas the other side boasted the
appliances. All in all, the culinary amenities were modern, professional, and
probably cost tens of thousands of dollars.

“Heya, Claire-bear,” Natalie grinned
chirpily, glancing at me over her shoulder. “You’re up late. Feeling alright?”

“We’ve been over this a million times, Nat,”
I sluggishly groaned as I shuffled towards the island for support.
God, I feel terrible.
“That pet name of
yours doesn’t work when my name’s not actually
Claire
.”

“Yeah, well, suck it up,” my best friend
chuckled, turning her eyes back to the television. “Anyway, don’t you, like,
have a thing with your mom today?”

Recollection snapped me to alertness. I
stumbled towards the clock on the oven and cursed myself for oversleeping.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna be late!”

“You’re making a bad habit of that!” She rang
out in a singsong voice, before chomping down on a spoonful of cereal. “And
here I was, about to invite you to Netflix the
shit
out of some shows with me. When’ve you gotta be there?”

“Two hours,” I moaned self-piteously.

“What? You can
totally
make that.”

“It takes an hour and a half to get there,
and I’m a total mess at the moment, if you couldn’t tell…”

“So
what
?
Skip the shower. Slap on some makeup. Brush your teeth. Put on pants. The
problem practically solves itself!” She threw her hands up in mock
exasperation. “Do I need to figure
all
this shit out for you, or can you be a functioning adult for, like, one goddamn
day?”

I couldn’t help but grin. Her friendship was
a definite blessing to me.

“One day I’m gonna strangle you, you
smart-ass,” I chuckled groggily. “But I’ll need that shower to wake me up… so,
you know, enjoy your Netflix boyfriend. Gonna make that Jared of yours
jealous.”

“It’s true, Netflix is
bae
,” Nat cheerfully announced. “Jared knows his place. He buys me
shit. He gives me the dick, but Netflix? Netflix is where my heart goes.”

“I thought that was pizza,” I retorted.

“Netflix and I have an open relationship with
pizza. It’s working out pretty well.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“And you will be, too, if you don’t get your
ass in gear. Shower if you’re gonna, bitch!”

Shaking my head, I followed her advice. I
really hated showering any less than half an hour, but time was of the essence.
After a quick, begrudgingly utilitarian rinse, I stood under the faucet and let
the steam cloud my senses for a few minutes.

One hair-drying session, a brisk bit of
makeup, and a fresh set of presentable clothes later, I was traipsing towards
the door.

“Hey, have you heard anything from your Good
Samaritan yet?”

“My what?”

“Uh, Dalton, I think he said his name was,”
Natalie clarified, pausing the television. “Dude from the bar. It was weird –
you hated him one moment, and then you were practically hanging on his every
word the next. But he turned out to be pretty chill, all things considered.”

“Did he?”

The memories slowly drifted back. I faintly
remembered the conversation we had. Dalton told me about his chemical engineer
father, about being in the Marines for two terms, and some other things that
were slipping my mind.

“Yeah. He could have dragged you to his
place, or at least tried. I was keeping an eye on you and making sure nothing
funny happened. But then he walked right up to me and put you in my care
instead of trying to fuck you.”

“We wouldn’t have fucked.”

“Oh Clara, you would have
definitely
fucked him. You should have seen the look in your eyes.
After you warmed up to him, you would have rode that dick all night long.”

“Ugh,” I grunted. “Was I that bad?”

“You weren’t
bad
, per se, but it was a bit of a fight to get you back here. You
kept trying to call the poor guy in the middle of the night.”

“Wow,” I shook my head. “Wonder what got into
me.”

“Well, to be fair, he was definitely into
you, too. And he was handsome as fuck. You two would have had
extraordinary
sex, and I’d have been
cheering you guys on from the other side of the wall.”

“Vote of confidence, that quickly? What if he
turned out to be an axe murderer?”

“I’d have taken that chance. Let’s tally it
up, shall we?” Natalie grinned, hopping over the arm of the couch and leaning
on the other side of the island.

I shook my head in amusement as she leaned
forward, counting off of her fingers.

“(1) Dude’s a Marine. Or was. Either way,
it’s awesome, and he’s still a total hottie. (2) That English accent. It’s to
die
for, really. He sounds so dignified!
(3) He
didn’t try to take advantage of
you.
I can’t really stress that one enough. How often does that happen
these days? Borderline never.”

“You’re trying to hook us up, aren’t you?” I
asked coyly. “Natalie, I just
met
the
guy.”

“Hey, all I’m saying is you need someone to
help you get over that total jerk-stain of an ex. Why not some big sexy arrogant
marine?”

“Lets not talk about Jeremy.”

“Of
course
I’m going to talk about Jeremy,” she said. “This guy’s, like, the total
opposite of him. Total dreamboat, with the whole
consent
thing down. You should go after him.”

“Jeremy didn’t do anything without consent.”

“No, but I think
psychological coercion
is sort of a gray area when it comes to the
whole ‘consent’ thing… and this guy? He seemed to be pretty legit when the
opportunity to take advantage rolled his way.”

“Well… it’s true that I can’t remember the
last time you’ve ever really approved of anyone I’ve been with,” I thought
aloud.

“Clara, this might come as a surprise, but
you have
really
shitty taste in guys.
When the good ones come around, you’re never interested! I just think you should
give that guy a shot. You never know what’ll come of it, right?”

“I’m going to remind you,
potential axe murderer
.” It was supposed
to be halfway serious, but my widening grin totally ruined it.

“Look, you can’t keep a straight face. But
anyway. You’re already late. Think about it! Text that guy when you’re back,
alright? If he’s a total tool, then no love lost, but he already plugged his
number into your phone and everything.”

Oh yeah. I forgot about that.

“Alright, alright,
fine
. I’ll text him when I come back and thank him for his
gentlemanly ways.”

“There you go, girl!” Natalie cheered. “Now
get out there and get this stupid family thing over with so that you can move
on with your life!”

The huge, stupid smile stayed smack across my
face as I walked down the hall, took the elevator to the lobby, crossed over to
the parking garage elevator, and wandered towards my car.

As I left the city, I put Tove Lo’s album on
and headed down the interstate. Ever mindful of the time, I went roughly ten
over the limit most of the way – keeping my eyes peeled for any parked squad
cars and speed traps along the side.

Luckily, fortune favored me today. My
haphazard driving made me barely able to arrive in time for lunch. As I
arrived, my eyes fell upon two unfamiliar vehicles outside Mom’s house – an
expensive gas-guzzler of a truck, and a worn but highly serviceable motorcycle.

I reasoned that the younger one probably had
the motorcycle.
Oh good. Not only is the
kid old enough to drive… he’s old enough to be comfortable on a motorcycle.

Mom stepped outside to greet me as I parked
beside the other vehicles. She met me at the front patio, drawing me into
another one of her warm, loving, but mildly suffocating embraces.

“Hello, dear! It’s been so long! I’m so happy
to see you again,” she cooed, holding me at arm’s length after the hug to
scrutinize my appearance. “Are you eating properly? You look like you’ve lost
weight!”

“I’ve been eating a little better, yeah. The
banquet serving job keeps me running ragged too, so there’s that…”

“Well, we need to put some more meat on those
bones!” Mom chortled happily.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’d
been coming back from an eating disorder I’d developed while at home. Mom, who
was naturally a wider woman, had always been obsessed with my appearance. She
looked down on “skinny bitches” and liked to keep me “fattened up”.

Oh yeah.

It took a few therapy sessions to fix
that.

“So, where are they?” I politely redirected
the topic as I followed her inside. “Have you killed them already?”

“Oh, heavens no!” Mom chuckled haughtily.
“They’re both in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on lunch.”

“They
both
cook?” I grinned slyly. “Sounds like a dream come true for you. Two grown
men, taking care of all your meals…”

“For a Brit, William knows his way around a
spice rack, that’s for sure.”

I was about to comment on that coincidence
when we turned the corner into the kitchen… and my heart practically stopped on
the spot.