Authors: Rosalie Lario
Tags: #Romance, #bad boy romance, #New York City, #Elle Kennedy, #dirty talking, #Contemporary, #Manhattan, #Anthologies, #Central Park, #billionaire romance, #Collections & Anthologies, #bad boy billionaire, #Literature & Fiction
Play slave to his master.
How many times had he fantasized about getting a woman to do just that? The problem was, given his usual laidback demeanor, any time he tried to go that route in the bedroom he ended up surprising the hell out of his partner. Was it so hard to believe, given his carefree nature, that he could be an Alpha in the bedroom?
Apparently so.
Diane didn’t know it, but her bad girl list had just awakened his deepest fantasies, and now she was the star of the play running in his mind.
A myriad of emotions raced through Sam as he locked gazes with Diane. Though she looked embarrassed as hell, she didn’t waver. Instead, she squared her shoulders and stared at him like the posh little princess he’d always envisioned her to be. A drunk one, but a princess nonetheless.
What would she look like staring at him so haughtily while kneeling down at his feet? He shifted uncomfortably as he realized he really wanted to find out.
Hell, she just might be the perfect partner for the kinds of games he envisioned playing. And wasn’t that the biggest surprise of all?
“Do you think I’m not allowed to express my desires just because I’m a woman, is that it?” she challenged.
“No.” His voice came out hoarse, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to give a crap. “I’m just thinking that you’re missing something.”
Frowning, she grabbed his wrist and brought the phone to her. Her brows furrowed as she stared at it hard. “What am I missing?”
He gave her a wolfish grin. “A partner.”
When she stiffened, he got the feeling that, despite her current state of inebriation, she understood what he was talking about.
She let go of his wrist and her eyes slowly rose to his. “What exactly are you implying?”
Something he shouldn’t, that much was obvious. She was Andrew’s ex-girlfriend. Odds were she would shoot him down. Or slap him and then shoot him down. But the racing of his heart and the tightness in his slacks told him he wasn’t about to back down. Not after reading that list. Not after discovering that what she was looking for aligned so closely to his unspoken desires.
“You want to be bad. I know more about that than most.” He lowered his voice a fraction and leaned toward her. “I can help you.”
Her breath caught and color rose in her cheeks again. Something in the trembling of her lips told him she was envisioning what he’d suggested, and didn’t find it as distasteful as he’d feared.
“You’re Andrew’s little brother.”
“Not so little,” he murmured suggestively.
Diane flushed. “I’m sure you can see why what I think you’re suggesting would be a horrible idea.”
A sudden thought occurred to him and he leaned back with a frown. “Are you in love with my brother?”
“I…no.” Her face screwed up in disgust. “I was never in love with him. We actually weren’t all that compatible.”
The amount of relief that poured through him at her pronouncement was surprising. His shoulders relaxed and he gave her a soft grin. “So then what’s the problem?”
“I…” Her eyes glazed over, and when she unconsciously licked her lips, his body tightened in response. But then she sat back. “No, it’s not a good idea. I couldn’t possibly.”
To his shock, even though he knew she was right about it being a bad idea, disappointment flowed through his veins at her words. He schooled his face into a carefree smirk and shrugged. “Suit yourself. But just in case you change your mind...”
Flipping her phone back toward him, he typed his number onto the very bottom of her list, then handed it to her.
She accepted it, her breath shuddering as she stared at the screen.
Sam rose from his seat and stepped past her chair, then bent to murmur in her ear. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, sweetheart, being naughty with her ex’s brother is most definitely something a bad girl would do.”
Her small shiver was the only indication that she’d heard him.
Enough was enough. He’d made his point.
Straightening to his full height, he turned and headed for the door, leaving Diane to ponder what he’d just said.
T
he shrill blast of a phone woke Diane from a dream she couldn’t quite remember. Whatever it was, it had left her feeling guilty and more than a little turned on. Another sharp ring was all it took for the lingering vestiges of desire to dissipate.
“Stop,” she croaked, as if that would somehow cause the phone to silence. Wow, her head felt like it had been run over by a limousine.
Groaning, she burrowed out from under her white down comforter and snatched her cell phone off the nightstand. That was all it took for memories of the night before to assail her.
It all came back in one blinding flash. Watching Andrew propose to his girlfriend. Getting drunk and typing a list of naughty things she wanted to do into her phone. Sam snatching her phone and reading her list, and then—horror of horrors—actually
volunteering
to help her with it.
“Oh god…no,” she whispered.
It wasn’t so much that the thought of doing any of those things with Sam Everly turned her off. Surprisingly, they didn’t. In fact, once he’d mentioned it, she couldn’t help but be turned
on
by the images flashing through her head
.
No, her dismay was due to the fact that he’d seen the list in the first place. She had never been so embarrassed.
Trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, she glanced at the screen. It was Angela calling. She hit the answer button and held the phone to her ear. “Why did you let me drink so much last night?”
Angela let out a laugh. “You can’t blame me for that. I tried to stop you.”
She was right, damn it.
“Did you still want to meet for a late lunch today,” Angela continued, “or are you too hung over?”
Somewhere in the jumbled memories whirling through her mind, Diane remembered making a lunch date with Angela on the way home last night. “Spaggio’s at three o’clock?”
“That was the plan,” Angela said cheerfully. “Are you up for it?”
Diane hesitated. The pounding in her head urged her to cancel and lay in bed all day. Maybe she could pretend the events of last night never happened. But the other part of her, the part that was awhirl in confusion, wanted to talk to Angela about what had happened with Sam. She’d been too drunk last night to even process the incident, much less bring it up.
“I’ll be there,” she finally said.
“Okay, then get your tush out of bed. It’s past one already.”
Diane whimpered. “It is?”
“I had a feeling you might say that.”
She scowled at Angela’s peppy tone and said her goodbyes, then forced herself out of bed and into a nice, warm shower. That only alleviated the pounding in her head by a fraction, but it was enough to propel her out the door and into a cab headed for the meatpacking district.
By the time Diane hopped out of the cab and braved the falling specks of snow and slippery brown ice patching the ground, Angela was already seated at their favorite table.
“You look like hell,” her friend said cheerily as Diane unwrapped the scarf from her neck and eased out of her gloves and coat.
“Gee, thanks.”
“I told you not to drink so much—”
“Yeah, yeah…I got it.”
Angela’s lips curved into a smug smile as she reached for the teapot that had been set in the middle of the table and poured some of the steamy liquid into a teacup. She slid it toward Diane just as she took a seat.
“Thank you.” Diane eagerly lifted the cup to her lips and took a deep sip of the lemon-and-spice flavored contents. Before she could say another word, the waiter stopped in front of them and asked for their order.
“I’ll have the spinach and prosciutto salad,” Angela said, ordering their usual. She glanced over at Diane. “Same for you?”
Not today. The hammering in her brain and the roiling of her stomach told her she’d need something with far more substance than the usual greens she ate to watch her weight. Besides, who cared if she gained a few pounds here or there?
“I’ll have the fettuccine alfredo and a side of minestrone soup.”
Angela’s brow lifted, but she didn’t comment until the waiter had left. “You really are going bad, aren’t you?”
Her allusion to that stupid list made Diane groan. She lifted her palm to soothe the shooting pain that had manifested right above her right eyebrow.
“What’s wrong?” Angela scooted forward in her seat. “You seem upset about something. Is it still the whole Andrew engagement thin—”
“No,” Diane snapped. “Could you please stop bringing that up?”
Angela made a face and uttered a defensive, “Sorry.”
Crap. Now she’d offended her one and only real friend in the city.
“No, I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh. “I guess I am feeling a little sensitive about that, but that’s not what’s bothering me.”
Frowning, Angela said, “So, what is it?”
Diane stared down into her teacup. Part of her still debated even bringing it up, but she desperately needed someone to talk to. “While you were in the restroom last night, Sam Everly approached me.”
“Sam Everly?” Angela said in a shocked voice.
“Um-hm. He…ah...” Diane took a quick glance around, because it was just her luck that someone she knew would be sitting within hearing distance. When she saw no one familiar, she said, “He overheard me making my list.”
Angela let out a loud gasp. “No. You’re kidding!”
Diane gave her friend a dry look. “No, I’m not.”
“What did he say?” Looking fascinated by the topic, Angela lifted her teacup to her mouth.
“He, um.” Diane’s thumb worried the lip of her cup. “He offered to help me with the items on my list.”
Angela sputtered and sprayed liquid out through her nose. Choking, she pounded on her chest.
“Are you okay?” Diane half rose from her seat.
Angela held up a hand and motioned Diane back toward her seat. She coughed for a few more moments before clearing her throat and practically yelling, “He did
what
?”
Silverware clinked, and the weight of several gazes landed on their table. Diane felt her cheeks warm.
“Hush,” she said in a loud whisper. “You’re making a scene.”
“
I’m
making a scene?” Angela shouted.
“Shh,” Diane urged her.
Angela looked around and seemed to come to her senses. Lifting her napkin to wipe her mouth, she leaned forward and repeated in a harsh whisper, “You just told me that Sam Everly, infamous Manhattan playboy and sex god, not to mention the
brother
of your ex, wants to do the dirty with you, and
I’m
the one who’s making a scene?”
When she put it that way…
Diane winced. “Sorry.”
Angela shook her head and carelessly dropped the napkin onto the table, reaching across the space to snatch Diane’s hand in hers. “Forget it. What did you tell him?”
“What do you think? I told him no. That it was a horrible idea.”
Proving herself to be more insightful than your average person, Angela gave her a long look. “Is that really what you think, though?”
“Of course it is,” Diane whispered, feeling the heat creep back to her cheeks.
The expression on Angela’s face told Diane she wasn’t quite convinced.
“What do you think of Sam Everly?” Angela pressed.
What was there to think? He was tall and handsome, with a lean, muscled body, dark hair that he liked to wear tousled as if he’d just rolled out of bed, and a bright blue gaze that could stare right through you, giving the impression he was making love to you with his eyes.
“I think he’s Andrew’s little brother,” Diane snapped.
Angela’s brows furrowed and she shook her head. “Uh-uh, you’re not deflecting that easily. What do you think of the man himself, irrespective of his family?”
“He’s a…guy.”
Letting out an exasperated sigh, Angela released her hand. “Well, I’ll tell you what I think about him. He’s sexy as hell. Have you seen his rear in those torn jeans he likes to wear?”
She might have noticed once or twice when their paths had crossed at social events.
The waiter arrived with their food, saving Diane from having to provide an immediate response. The moment he left, Angela picked up her fork and dug into her salad, longingly glancing at Diane’s plate of steaming pasta the whole while.
“He’s nothing like Andrew, you know. Andrew is all business, all the time.”
“I know,” Diane murmured as she dug into her bowl of minestrone. At least, he
used
to be. Although part of Diane couldn’t help but be bitter at the fact that he’d dumped her for another woman—now his fiancé—she objectively recognized what a good match they were. He seemed far happier now that Hailey was in his life.
“I only know Sam on a social level,” Angela said, “but from what I’ve seen of him, he couldn’t be more opposite to Andrew. He’s carefree and fun and impulsive. Maybe that’s exactly what you need right now.”
Her words prompted Diane to look up from her soup. “Are you crazy?”
“Think about it. You wanted an illicit affair, right? What could be more illicit than someone you could never see yourself ending up with? And the brother of your ex to boot? Don’t tell me you haven’t at least thought about living out that revenge fantasy?”
She had a point.
“He did mention something to that effect before he left,” she admitted.
“He did?” Angela’s lips curved into an impish smile. “You’re actually thinking about doing it, aren’t you?”
Diane remembered the whisper of Sam’s breath along her neck when he murmured into her ear right before walking away. It had aroused a tremor of sexual awareness that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Certainly never with his straight-laced brother.
Plus, he didn’t seem put off by some of the racier items on her list.
Play slave to his master.
Images of her doing just that popped into her head. A shiver ran through her spine.