The Bad Boy
Arrangement
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Nora Flite
Copyright © 2015 Nora Flite
All rights reserved. THE BAD BOY ARRANGEMENT is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Also from Nora Flite:
Last of the Bad Boys
Only Pretend
For the Thrill
For the Fight
For the Bond
Hard Body Rock
Slow Body Rock
Flawed Body Rock
True Body Rock
Watch Me Fall
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
A preview of what's to come:
- 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 -
LAST OF THE BAD BOYS
- 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 -
- Chapter Sixteen -
- Chapter Seventeen -
- Epilogue -
~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~
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A preview of what's to come:
“You shouldn't give me instructions,” he whispered, fingers circling my wrist just below my mug. “I'm the kind of guy that will listen. Telling me what I need to do to make you blush is dangerous.”
My mouth was suddenly dry, I couldn't even remember the taste of my drink. Abell ruled my senses.
I could see where his eyelashes connected with the hooded lids of his heated eyes. I could even see the tiny lines across his perfectly smirking lips. We were too close, and I knew it, but my brain was firing wrong.
Stop this, I told myself, Don't let him get to you.
I had wanted to go home and think. There was so much riding on me, and I hadn't had the time to process it fairly.
Abell was showing me he knew exactly how to take over my mind. His nearness was as good as a typhoon, demanding my attention and roaring that if I stayed or if I ran, the result would be the same.
He would consume me.
“Nix,” he said under his breath.
“Y—yeah?”
Smiling slowly, he ran his thumb in a circle around the underside of my wrist. “You're spilling coffee everywhere.”
Glancing down, I saw that my floor was shining from the constant drip of my drink. Unconsciously, I'd been tipping it as I leaned towards Abell. I shook myself, realizing I'd been inches away from kissing him. I knew he'd taste like the tang of fresh brewed coffee. He'd be delicious, he'd—Stop!
Reaching out with my other hand, I grabbed my mug and set it on the sink. Then, I peeled at his fingers; he let me go reluctantly. “Abell, no, we aren't doing this.”
“Doing what?” he asked, still hovering over me.
His thigh touched mine, and I jumped. “This. I wasn't playing hard to get, I really have no plans to do anything with you. Ever,” I added for emphasis.
Chuckling, he rubbed his leg on mine, sliding it inside my knee until we were twisted up like a pretzel. His hands came down on the counter behind me, halting any escape. “You're trying to tell me none of this is tempting you?”
Unable to look away from his stare, my breathing became choppy. “I'm cold as a fish.”
“Oh yeah?” His eyes flicked down, staring pointedly at my shirt. I followed his gaze, noticing what he had; my nipples were stabbing through the fabric.
Biting my tongue, I searched for a response. “It's just chilly in here.”
He twisted his lips together. “Then I'll have to warm you up.”
Something was crushing into my hip, digging in hard. With my heart pressing into my ribs, I shut my eyes. I knew what was grinding against me so firmly.
That's his cock.
He had a hard-on thick enough to drill through his jeans.
Abell whispered, “I never did get lunch. Maybe I could eat something else?”
Each time my heart thumped, it strangled my brain. This can't happen. Subconsciously, I rocked my body against his. Abell inhaled sharply, a small noise in his throat.
His fingers coiled in my hair. Vibrations echoed through my bones, rolling into my pussy, my clit already so swollen I felt my panties rubbing it with every small shift of my hips.
It felt amazing, and I knew, if I just... just let this happen, it'd be...
- Chapter One -
Abell
It had been three days and five hours since my last fuck.
Well, give or take.
I could be wrong about the hour.
Either way, I was antsy as hell. Going this long was like keeping water from a man in the desert. I could survive for awhile, sure, but I knew myself. If I didn't find a nice pair of thighs to dive between, I'd be useless to the world.
So, really, it was for everyone's benefit that I got laid.
I had a few places I liked to roam when I was scouting for a playmate. Bars are stereotypical, but they work—especially if you like the college crowd. Clubs? They were too sweaty for my mood.
Tonight, I'd gone a little out of the way.
The rock concert was in a park that had been strung up with Christmas lights along the fringes. An invigorating chill infused the night air. All in all, it wasn't a bad scene. I just wish the damn speakers weren't numbing my ears, I thought with a chuckle.
The band had been playing for twenty minutes, but I couldn't have repeated any of their lyrics. My attention was devoted to scouring the rolling bodies for my next prize.
There were women everywhere, thank fucking goodness. Skinny types in painted on jeans, curvy girls with their tits fluffing out... you name it, they were here in droves.
I was in Heaven.
As I swayed casually to the music, I moved with grace through the packed bodies. The smell of spilled beer weighed the air down, making me glad the venue was outdoors. The space—like every event in this city—was too small to hold everyone comfortably.
Speaking of too small. To my left, a woman in a skirt that barely hid her ass was grinding at the air. Her hair was slicked back in a high tail, makeup clinging around her eyes like she was auditioning for a movie about Egypt.
She was trying way too hard.
I love the Try-Hards.
They were the kind of girl you knew was looking to get some cock. Their actions said, 'I'm right here, just insert tab A into slot B and let's go!' My type, entirely; women who knew what they wanted never failed to get my pants tight.
Grinning, I slid beside her, my hips rocking with the tempo. Wordlessly, not even meeting my eyes, Skirt-Girl humped the air until she was inches away from me. Her hips twisted, towering heels barely moving off the grass—maybe so she wouldn't fall and break an ankle.