Bad Boy Done Wrong
Table of Contents
Bad Boy Done Wrong
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Bonus Epilogue
About the Author
Bad Boy Done Wrong
Happy Endings Book Club Series, Book 5
© 2017 Kylie Gilmore
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Good girl nurse Carrie Young only has to catch one glimpse of bad boy Zach Harrison with his wild hair, full beard, and hooded eyes to know he’s exactly what she needs to get over all those wasted years with a repressed and controlling ex. Full seduction ahead!
Only the next morning, her bad boy doesn’t disappear after having his wicked way with her and he’s making her breakfast! What the fudge! Did she do the bad boy thing all wrong?
Zach’s no dummy. He knows a good thing when it falls into his lap. And if that means pretending to be a bad boy, he’s game. No harm in a little role play, he figures. Besides, his work as an anthropologist will soon take him overseas. He’s destined to be a lone wolf forever—near the action, not embroiled in it—great for his career and for ruining relationships. In the meantime, there’s one naughty girl in need of a bad boy and he aims to please.
Author’s Note
The Happy Endings Book Club was inspired by my own wish for a romance book club. I hope you’ll feel right at home with Hailey, the leader/matchmaker of the club, and all the single women there hoping for a happy ending. Fall in love with Zach, a bad boy who aims to please! Carrie fell hard. Read on and join the club!
Hidden Hollywood (Book 1)
Inviting Trouble (Book 2)
So Revealing (Book 3)
Formal Arrangement (Book 4)
Bad Boy Done Wrong (Book 5)
Mess With Me (Book 6)
Resisting Fate (Book 7)
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Chapter One
WANTED
One alpha bad boy straight out of romanceland.
Must haves:
Passion <
Sexual confidence
Intensity
Deep panty-melting voice
Hard muscular body
Never does relationships
Optional but highly desirable:
Facial hair especially a beard
Gruff and growly
Checkered past
Rule breaker
Tattoos
Motorcycle
Carrie taped her list to the bathroom mirror, hoping when the magical moment arrived and she finally found the alpha bad boy of her fantasies, she’d have the courage to make her move.
Chapter Two
The Morning After Carrie Makes Her Move…
Carrie Young woke with a satisfied smile, fully prepared for her first ever walk of shame. She propped up on her elbows, suddenly alarmed. Something was very wrong. She was naked in the bed of a strange man’s apartment with the delicious scent of bacon wafting through the air. What the fudge!
She jackknifed upright. Was that pancakes too?
Weird. Did bad boys cook breakfast the morning after a wild night of debauchery?
She rolled out of bed and searched for her clothes. She found her purple dress hanging from a lamp where he’d tossed it and the matching bra wadded on the floor nearby. Panties were nowhere to be found. Whatever. She was pretty sure going commando would be exactly what someone who just had a fling with a bad boy would do. She grabbed her purse where she’d dropped it by the bedroom door and slipped on her slutty black heels. But before she could enjoy her walk of shame, she really needed to brush her teeth. She never neglected personal hygiene.
She headed to the adjoining bathroom, pulled a small bag of toiletries from her purse, and inspected herself in the mirror. Yes, she definitely looked ravished. The layers of her blond hair were askew, landing just past her jaw at odd angles. She had beard burn on one side of her neck and her blue eyes were brighter than usual, or maybe that was her new contacts.
She finished up in the bathroom and followed the scent of bacon to the kitchen, where Zach, a tall lean man in his thirties, stood barefoot in front of the stove, expertly flipping pancakes in a white short-sleeve undershirt and dark green tartan plaid boxers. She flashed to a brief Outlander fantasy because tartan plaid, and his thick dark brown hair was on the longish side, curling at the nape of his neck. He had the kind of sinewy strong body that could easily lift a woman, as he’d fully demonstrated when he (unknowingly) performed item number six on her secret naughty list, euphemistically named Carrie’s Wish List.
A girl had to dream. Especially after dedicating six prime years—nineteen to twenty-five—to Edward, her super-controlling, repressed, toxic ex. Why had she stayed with him so long? Maybe because she’d been young and naive, maybe because he’d started off with the most romantic of courtships, or maybe she just didn’t know any better, having nothing to compare him to. That time was past. It had been more than a year since Edward, and now she was spreading her legs, er, wings. She’d been looking for the alpha-bad-boy experience because there was just so much she’d missed out on in the bedroom.
Carrie was taking back her womanly mojo.
Her stomach growled. She’d strut out of here right after breakfast. It would be rude to leave when Zach had gone to the trouble of making all this delicious food.
“Hi,” she said.
He whirled, a slow smile dawning. He had a full beard and she nearly squirmed remembering the unusual sensation of it brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck and breasts and belly. “Hi, Carrie,” he said in a deep honey voice that made her knees weak. If she were wearing panties, they totally would’ve melted. “Hope you like pancakes.”
“I do, thanks.”
“Coffee’s ready.” He gestured to the coffee maker, which had just beeped. “Help yourself.” He turned back to the stove.
“You’re quite the host.” She set her purse under the square wooden kitchen table. Then she tried out the naughty-girl thing on her way to coffee. “Zach, right?”
He turned, his light brown eyes narrowing. “Do you not remember calling out my name multiple times last night? You said you only had two glasses of wine.”
She blushed furiously, felt extremely naughty and bit back a smile as she poured herself a cup of coffee in the white mug sitting on the counter. “It’s starting to come back to me.”
Suddenly he was at her side, taking the coffee from her hand, setting it on the counter, and then cradling her jaw with one warm hand. He tipped her head up and gazed down at her for a long smoldering moment. Her lips parted, her heart thudding in her ears, her body humming in anticipation. He was so much bigger, tall with wide shoulders, she felt petite, even though she was an average five feet five.
He dipped his head, his lips brushing over hers in a whisper of a kiss. “Maybe you need a reminder.”
“I do,” she breathed, aching for more. Zach had been everything she hoped last night—sensual, insatiable, open to anything. Now he was going to let breakfast burn while he took wicked advantage of her and hopefull
y performed item number one on her wish list.
He bit her lower lip and then sucked it. “After I feed you.” His voice was gruff and growly, scraping across her insides. He gazed deep into her eyes, still cradling her jaw, and she couldn’t breathe for a moment. Finally, he released his hold on her and swaggered back to the stove.
She wobbled and leaned against the counter, her skin hot, her lower lip still tingling.
He glanced over at her, a small knowing smile playing over his lips.
She looked away, blushing, but then reminded herself she was no longer that blushing good girl, she was a woman who made no apologies about, well, anything. She retrieved her coffee mug from the counter and settled with it at the kitchen table, carefully tucking her dress under her. There was only a half wall separating the kitchen from the living room, which was mostly empty. Just a black sofa with a dark red fleece blanket thrown over the back, TV mounted on the wall, a desk with a laptop, and a bunch of boxes lined up on one side. They were on the first floor of an apartment complex, end unit, she remembered that from last night. Definite bachelor pad. Neat, even. That didn’t mean he wasn’t the alpha bad boy of her fantasies. He’d already ticked so many of the boxes—deep panty-melting voice, beard, hard muscular body, and most importantly, passion. Plus sexual confidence that made him deliciously dominating and intense. Woo! Was he ever intense! Okay, yes, the lack of tattoos was a little disappointing, but all things considered, he’d been perfect for her—sexy alpha with just a hint of bad. She’d sort of pounced on him at the bar last night once she knew he was a friend of her cop friend, Ethan, who’d confirmed Zach was bad to the bone but not in a criminal way. She wasn’t crazy, after all, just sexually deprived.
A few minutes later, Zach served her a plate with three crispy pieces of bacon and two pancakes drizzled in syrup.
“Thank you,” she said, cutting into the pancake and popping a piece in her mouth. Omigod. It was amazing. He’d even warmed the syrup. She chalked up his gourmet cooking to his extremely sensual nature. Food like this was definitely a sensual experience. He was still her fantasy bad boy. “Are these blueberry?”
“Yeah. They’re in season. You like?”
She quickly cut another large piece. “I love them!” It was the first weekend of August and this area of Connecticut was bursting with fresh produce.
“Good,” he said gruffly. A shiver ran down her spine. Gruff and growly did it for her for some reason. He filled a plate for himself, sat across from her, and dug in.
She’d nearly finished eating when it occurred to her she forgot to make conversation. The food was just so good and the silence hadn’t felt awkward at all. She lifted her eyes to his. He gave her a small smile and kept eating. He was the quiet sort with a steady reserved demeanor, almost like he preferred to sit back and observe. Like a shrink would. Was he psychoanalyzing her? What did he do for a living? All she knew through the grapevine was that he was back home after being in “no man’s land” for years. She quickly decided he couldn’t possibly be a shrink because Zach’s asking in his deep gruff panty-melting voice, “How does that make you feel?” would surely lead to more orgasms than confidence sharing. At least with women. She stifled a laugh.
Ooh! Maybe he was in a motorcycle club and cruised the back roads of outlaw country somewhere out west. Or maybe he led mountain expeditions in remote parts of the world and that was why he had the beard. To keep his face from freezing off. Or maybe he lived in the rugged Highlands, hiking through rocky terrain with only his beard and a kilt to keep him warm. She liked that he could be any fantasy. She was pretty sure this hookup qualified as a one-night stand, so he could be anything she wanted him to be. Unless…
She studied him for a moment, debating if she should share her wish list with him. She hadn’t shared it with a guy before, at least not on purpose, but she’d dearly love to experience the other six things on it. Her list had seven items whittled down from the original thirteen, after her friend Ally had pointed out there wasn’t much difference between some of the items. For example, “sixty-nine” had a blow job unnecessarily added to what she really wanted—a man to go down on her. She’d done the blow job thing; the other was new. No need to be redundant when she was living on the edge.
Zach leaned back in his chair, folded his hands behind his head, and studied her through his naturally hooded bedroom eyes. So hot. She hoped she looked ravished and stunning, not like her usual bleary morning self. She took another bite of pancake and realized she was full. She eyed the remaining piece of bacon. She really shouldn’t overindulge, but it had been so long since she’d had bacon. She wasn’t much of a cook.
“Go ahead and eat it,” he said. “It’ll just go to waste if you don’t.”
“You can have it.”
“I’m good.” He watched her, his eyes dancing with amusement.
“Something funny?”
He set his palms flat on the table. “I’m just surprised the woman who took exactly what she wanted last night is hesitating now over a piece of bacon.”
Her cheeks heated. He hadn’t leaned in, but he suddenly felt close, all up in her space, challenging her. And, dammit, this was the new empowered Carrie. New sexy dress, new contacts, new unapologetically sexy attitude. This Carrie took what she wanted, whether that was an alpha bad boy or a frigging extra piece of bacon.
She snatched the bacon and took a bite. Effing delicious.
He leaned back in his chair, seeming satisfied to watch her eat. Feeling self-conscious, she studied the living room behind him with stacks of boxes lined up against one wall.
“You just move in?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
He didn’t offer any more information.
Still, she had to know something about the man she hoped would continue to rock her world. That might’ve been presumptuous. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure how long it would take her to find another alpha bad boy that ticked so many of her boxes. He’d been downright spectacular last night, bringing her favorite sex fantasy to life—alpha wallbanger. She had to at least feel him out. Maybe he’d be willing to help her out a little longer. “Where’d you move from?”
“Colorado by way of Indonesia.”
Wow! It was both out west and exotic. This was definitely a man worthy of her wish list. Nerves ran through her as she debated pulling out her phone and showing him the list in her notes app or maintaining the cool façade of a woman who did the casual fling thing regularly. But if she didn’t show him the list, she’d have to tell him what she wanted and she wasn’t so sure she could do that. Okay, what was the worst thing that could happen? He’d laugh at her. Best thing? He’d perform every single thing on that list and make her dream come true.
Show him!
No, it’s too soon.
He already did number six.
But he doesn’t know he did it!
She rubbed her temple. It was one thing to tell your best girl friends about your pathetic love life, a whole different thing to tell a bad boy you just met that because of your pathetic love life, you now had some pretty intense and specific needs.
He took a sip of coffee, completely calm in the face of her turmoil.
This had all been much easier last night with two glasses of wine in her. “Thank you for breakfast,” she blurted, falling back on good manners in the face of potential awkwardness.
“Yup.” He took another sip of coffee and watched her over the rim.
She stood abruptly, cleared her dishes, and set them in the sink. She ran the water so the syrup wouldn’t stick and be difficult to clean later. Then she turned and let out a yelp because he was right there. Directly behind her, holding his own dishes.
“Calm down,” he said, setting his dishes in the sink. “What’re you so jumpy about?”
“Nothing,” she squeaked. She took one step around him when he snagged her by the waist.
“Hold on now,” he said, turning her to face him. He held her by the hips and pul
led her close enough to feel his heat. She was suddenly keenly aware he was only wearing a V-neck undershirt and boxers, which meant it would be so easy to get her hands on his hard body. Her fingers itched with the urge to touch and she was through denying herself. She slid her fingers under the front of his shirt over the ridges of his abs to his warm chest. He smelled like bacon and she suddenly desperately wanted to lick him all over.
“Carrie?”
His deep voice vibrated under her hands and she wanted to rub her cheek over his chest, then press her ear to it and soak that sexy voice in.
He tilted her chin up. “Not that I’m not loving your hands all over me, but I’m trying to figure out why you seem so…unsettled.”
She told herself to stop touching him, but her hands wouldn’t listen. They slid up over his wide shoulders and then back down his chest over his sexy abs to the waistband of his boxers.
His hands stopped hers, holding them at the edge of his boxers. “We good here?”
This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for in the entire year it had taken her to get up the nerve to approach a bad boy. She’d be a fool to pass this opportunity up. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Yeah.”
“You have to swear not to laugh. Not until I leave.”
He gazed at her steadily and squeezed her hands. “I won’t laugh.”
She couldn’t maintain eye contact. She stared at his exposed chest at the V of his shirt, tanned skin a few shades darker than hers with some dark hair. He released her hands only to snag her hips, taking her with him as he shifted to lean against the counter. He wrapped his arms around her waist, looking completely relaxed. She was the furthest thing from relaxed, pressed against that hard male body. Her nipples tightened into peaks and she was sure he could feel her heart thudding against her rib cage. She took a deep breath, placed her hands on his warm chest, and risked a look up at him. He watched her with his sexy hooded eyes, and those sensual lips seemed to be calling to her to stroke and taste and suck. A flutter low in her belly and the throbbing between her legs spurred her on. She could so do this.