Read Bossy Online

Authors: Kim Linwood

Bossy (28 page)

“Cassie, I can’t do this. What’s Paul going to think?” There’s another reason why this is a bad idea. Paul’s my boyfriend. Tall, tattooed and obnoxious—in a sexy sort of way, mostly—, he’s a far cry from my structured way of doing things, my carefully kept schedules and planning notebook. He’s my little rebellion against my own way of life. I love that about him, or at least I like it a lot.

I know it won’t last, what with me going off to college in the fall, but he’s said he’ll come with me and bring his motorcycle. His hog, as he calls it. I don’t know, maybe it’s for real. All I know is that he’s really good-looking, and somehow still decided to get together with me. That puts him miles ahead of any other guy I’ve been interested in.

He’s so far out of my league, though. Not as far as the hunk of man right in front of me, but honestly I’m just waiting for Paul to wise up and realize he’s dating a dork. Cassie says he’d be an idiot if he did, but as my bff, she’s supposed to say those things. What’s she going to say? That I’m a nerd and our days are numbered?

Lately, he’s been pushing for us to go all the way. God, listen to me. It’s like I’m back in middle school. Fine, he wants to fuck me, and I’ve been stalling because I’ve never done it before. I’m terrified that he’ll think I’m a prude or hate it with me since I don’t know what I’m doing. So that’s why I’m now a part of Cassie’s Big Master Plan To Get Me Laid ™.

She stares at me with big eyes, like I’m crazy. “Paul must never know! This is for the both of you. The first time always sucks. Get it out of the way with someone you don’t care about.” She nods her head in the hot guy’s direction. “Like him.”

Someone I don’t care about. If I really cared about Paul, would I have let her talk me into this at all? Wouldn’t it feel more wrong? No, I do. I have to. Otherwise, what would be the point?

My gaze follows her nod, and I realize hot guy’s looking right at me. Our eyes lock, and his narrow while mine go wide. Oh crap. The corners of his mouth turn up in a confident smirk that makes me tingly just as my stomach drops. If he can affect me like that from over there...

It’s like he hears my thoughts. He pushes off the wall by flexing his back and walks confidently in our direction, his gaze never wavering from mine. My voice is a panicked hiss, but while I’m whispering to Cassie, I can’t tear my eyes away from him. “He’s coming this way. What do I do?”

“Smile, hon.” She nudges me with her elbow. “At least
try
not to look like a deer trapped in headlights.”

Yeah, right. I idly play with my curls, but let go at Cassie's sharp whisper, "Stop fiddling."

He’s tattooed, and not with little half-filled ones like Paul’s. It wasn’t so obvious from across the room, but as he comes nearer I see how they twine around his bulging biceps like inky snakes The club lights flash over him, pulling him out of the half-darkness and make the abstract designs stand out clearly. They writhe on his skin, rippling along with his muscles and crawling into his shirt. My mouth goes dry as I wonder how much of him is covered.

His deep hazel eyes roam up and down my body, and he doesn't even try to hide it. I wish I'd picked a slightly more modest dress. This one had looked good when I was fifteen, but while I'm not any taller now, my curves have filled out since then, and the difference is enough to firmly move it from
cute with a hint of sexy
to
totally painted on.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you girls looking.” His deep voice carries through the loud music, as arrogant as his smirk. He looks older than us, but not by a lot. Maybe twenty-three or twenty-four.

“Hi!” Cassie pitches her voice higher than normal and pushes her ample chest out. I don’t think it even occurs to her that she’s doing it. It’s just how she is, especially around guys she likes. “I’m Cassandra, and my shy friend here’s Angie.”

Yep. Shy friend. Heat rushes to my face as he studies me intently.

Still smirking, he seems to be having way too much fun. “Yeah? I’m Gavin.” He speaks to both of us, but his eyes are locked on me. Why, I’ve no idea, with Cassie showing so much cleavage that you could rappel down between her breasts. How am I supposed to compete with that?

She looks distracted for a second, then reaches into that same cleavage and pulls out a small, pink phone. The back panel reads “SLUT” in jagged, purple letters, making me roll my eyes. Gavin arches an eyebrow. She glances up briefly and smiles before scrolling through her messages. She’s totally faking it. “On vibrate,” she explains, as if she’s not being obvious.

Gavin and I exchange a brief glance while we wait, and then she’s done. “I gotta go. I’m sorry, guys, but something’s come up.” She winks at me, and my gut clenches. She’s leaving me here with him. Just like that? What do I do?

“Listen, Gavin, why don’t you take care of Angie. Make sure she has company.” It’s so obviously a ruse that she doesn’t even bother hiding her wide grin. “See that she gets home safe.”

This is crazy. “I don’t think—”

“Sure,” he cuts in. “Just go do whatever it is you need to do that’s not here. I’ll take good care of her.” His hand lands right at the small of my back and pulls me closer. It’s warm, his long fingers spanning from one side of me to the other.

I look up at him, pleading with my eyes. “Listen, this is a bad idea. I’m not...” What aren’t I, exactly?

“Not that kind of girl? Not up for a good time? Not going to stay up past bedtime?” He steps around to my front and puts his finger under my chin so I can’t look away. “Or not going to leave me here all alone?”

I retreat without even thinking about it, until the hard wall is against my back. He stalks after me, fencing me in with his arms. Damn it, Cassie. This is too much. She threw me to the freaking wolves.

Gavin smiles, white teeth flashing. Not a wolf, a shark. “Let me guess, little girl. You’re off to college soon, and...” he draws it out before he continues. “And your best friend thinks you should go take a walk on the wild side before you get there. And now she’s left you with me.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. He’s eerily close to the mark. “You do this a lot?”

“Babe, I can show you things you’ve never even known to dream about.” He leans in, so close I can smell him. He’s all testosterone, all masculinity. “I’m good.” He trails a finger along my jaw. “I’m the best.” He’s also arrogant as hell.

Trying to look around his massive body, I search for Cassie, but while I’m sure she’s watching gleefully someplace nearby, I don’t see her. How did I let her talk me into this? God, this is crazy.

“Eyes on me, babe. I want to get lost in those gorgeous brown pools.” The sheer intensity of him scares me. I can’t tell how much of his interest is real, and how much is just love of the chase. “I want to see them beneath me as I slide into you.”

My sex clenches in spite of my misgivings. Okay, so I want him. He’s full of himself, but there’s no denying he’s hot. This was the plan, right? Now I just have to follow through with it.

“I guess it’s your lucky night. Just like, tone down the macho a little, alright? My bullshit meter doesn’t go to eleven,” I say it with a confidence I don’t feel, and I’m sure he can tell. But what should he care so long as he gets laid, right? It doesn’t matter if I like him, so long as I don’t let down Paul when we finally do it.
Do it.
Hello again, middle school.

He laughs softly and studies my face. “You know what? Never mind. You’re not ready. Go swim in the kiddie pool a little longer. I’ve got better things to do than babysit.” Turning away, he puts his hand up in a dismissive wave as he walks off.

What? I finally worked up my nerve, and he turns me down? No freaking way! That’s unacceptable. Forgetting that five minutes ago I didn’t know him, and two minutes ago I wanted to run away, I charge after him, grab his arm and pull. It’s like wrapping my fingers around warm steel.

When he looks at me, his eyes are shrewd and narrow, and that infuriating smirk is still plastered on his face, like he was expecting my reaction. Is he playing me? I don’t even know why I want him anymore, other than that he’s thrown down the gauntlet and it’s now or never. There’s no way I’ll work up the courage to go through this again.

I glare at Gavin, daring him to contradict me. “I am
so
ready.”

He arches a single, skeptical eyebrow, but he nods. “Alright. If you say so. I’ve got a place around the corner. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His smug words taunt me, like he still doesn’t believe I’m up for the challenge.

I’m sure he’s playing me, but I’ll play him right back.

Chapter 2: Angie

T
he elevator takes forever, and it’s really awkward. At least for me. I don’t know him, but I’m going to have sex with him, and he’s standing there like he doesn’t have a care in the world, leaning against the wall with his big, tattooed arms crossed over his chest. Meanwhile, I have to force myself to stand still, my legs wanting to pace the little space we have.

I focus on the yellow lights that slowly tick away our progress towards the thirty-third floor. It’s the penthouse, and I’m pretty sure this is the tallest building I’ve ever been in. Even under the circumstances, I’m amazed at how long the freaking elevators take. I’m probably just a little antsy. Okay, a lot antsy.

Finally, the bell dings and the doors open into a well-lit hallway. It’s short, with only three doors, one to either side of us and one straight ahead. Gavin heads for the one on the left, taking the lead. We still haven’t said a word since we got in the elevator, but I guess neither of us are here for conversation. It’s not like this is a date.

He unlocks it, his heavy key chain rattling. Standing behind him, I admire his broad back, rippling under his tight shirt even at those small movements. I feel small and vulnerable next to him. God, he could break me.
Angie, you’ve better not have screwed up.

He gives the door a push and gestures for me to enter with a suave but over the top flourish. Praying that I haven’t just done the stupidest thing in my short life, I step forward, drawing a sharp breath as soon as I see the large floor to ceiling windows. Across the room, the whole city sprawls out below us like a quilt made out of neon.

Without thinking about it, I run right up so I can see better. My knees shake with a touch of vertigo, but it’s too beautiful to look away. Red and yellow lights glide along the streets far below, like glowing ants scurrying around a giant anthill. Looming over the streets, the buildings are shadowy forms spattered with glowing yellow rectangles showing where someone’s home, or working late. I can see the harbor off in the distance, and a large ship’s setting out, a floating tower of tiny bright squares. It’s amazing. I’ve never seen a view like this.

Catching my breath, I turn and look around the room with wide eyes while Gavin waits patiently behind me, an expression of amusement on his face. I bet I’m not the first one to come in here and need a moment. Whatever bachelor hovel I’d expected him to have, this isn’t it. All of the floors are solid hardwood. Everything is chrome, glass or polished wood, except the large leather couch that faces the biggest TV I’ve seen in my life. While the windows dominate the whole wall behind me, the others are covered in paintings and artsy photos in fancy frames. Almost every single one features nudes.
That
I might have expected.

Behind the couch, a black marble island separates the living room from a state of the art kitchen that looks like it’s hardly been used. No clutter in sight, and there’s not a stain or scratch anywhere. I bet if I open the fridge, there won’t be anything inside.

The whole place is neat and tidy, like a model apartment that no one lives in.

I don’t know who Gavin really is, but he’s money and that somehow makes me even more nervous.

There’s a large fireplace in the corner that flares up when he hits a switch on the wall, filling the room with silent, flickering light. “I like the real wood ones better.” It’s the first thing he’s said since we left the club. “Gas is convenient, but it’s just not the same sound and smell, you know?”

Right, like I’m the type of girl who has opinions on decorative fireplaces that probably cost more than my car. I turn to him. This is all too much. I just need to get it over with. I haven’t changed my mind, but it makes me a little sad to think that my first time has turned into something to
get over with.

When I speak, I hear the tightness in my own voice. “Where’s the bedroom?”

He chuckles. “Well, aren’t you all business tonight? Fine, this way, babe.” Crossing his arms over his torso to peel his t-shirt off as he walks, he casually throws it aside while he leads the way to a closed white door.

I’m glad his back is to me, because while his shirt didn’t leave a lot to the imagination, I didn’t expect all the ink that covers his massive torso. Abstract designs made with sleek edges and sharp points wrap themselves around his left shoulder and arm. A pair of Chinese dragons in full color spew fire across his back, undulating as he moves. A single lone dove decorates his right side.

Do they mean anything? I want to ask, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not here to get to know this guy. He’s just taking my cherry. I don’t need to know anything about him except that he’s good in bed, and something tells me he will be.

As soon as we enter the room, he turns, putting me face to chest with his massive inked pecs. He’s chiseled like a Greek god, a masterwork even Michelangelo would’ve been proud to show off. I get the urge to touch him, to trace the designs on his skin with my finger, but I don’t. It feels too personal.
Unlike sex.
This
is
crazy.

Putting his finger underneath my chin, he lifts my gaze to meet his. It’s smoldering, his hazel eyes deep and intense. The flecks of color seem to change in the flickering light from the fireplace. Mine feel almost plain in comparison. No matter what he’d said about my eyes earlier at the club, I think I’m the one at risk of getting lost.

He leans close, and I barely get my hands up onto his powerful chest before his lips claim mine. I hadn’t meant to kiss him. For some reason it feels more intimate than just
doing it
, but suddenly there’s a current running through us, raising all the little hairs on my arms into tingling goosebumps. I don’t push him away. Hell, I even kiss him back. God, he feels good.

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