The Perfect Con (A Bad Boy Romance Novel) (Bad Boy Confessions Book 1) (5 page)

“All true. Hey—do you want to go for a walk?” she called up to me. She nodded over my shoulder and I glimpsed. Cyrus was leaning against the wall, examining us from over his sunglasses. “That creep is staring at us.”

Real subtle, Cyrus.

“As you wish,” I said, gesturing forward. A sly little smile kinked up the corner of Sofi’s lip as she passed, traipsing toward the wide glass doors on the ground floor. I could see that they led out onto a sweeping veranda of wood, but no further.

She was looking over her shoulder at me and smiling as she pushed the glass doors open. I was so distracted by the silhouette of her parted thighs inside her sheer dress—so thin, so easy to rend in two—I didn’t notice the landscape beyond. As the glass door clipped shut behind us, the world of smoke and color and bad music closed up and floated away, and there was just Sofi’s warm eyes and wild curls and the dark night beyond.

Then our eye contact broke, and I realized this deck overlooked a distant lagoon, enshrouded in mists real, not manufactured. All we had to do was climb the railing and jump—a small drop, less than six feet—and then walk a few yards. All manner of signs were erected, warning us away from doing just that.

“So,” Sofi mused, draping over the wooden rail on her elbows, gazing over the same landscape. My eyes traveled down the soft curve of her back, fantasizing how it would feel to run my palms over her bare skin, then swat her on the ass as hard as I could. Grip her hair and pull her head back, her throat exposed, my teeth against it. The taste of vanilla and coconut on my tongue. Fuck. Fuck. Focus. Rein it in, asshole. “You think thievery and mischief, general mayhem and whatnot, just kind of run in my blood.”

“The daughter of Arturo and niece of Ronaldo? Yeah, I’d say so.” I leaned on the wooden railing alongside her.

“You know, I’m really just visiting to get away from all that,” Sofi replied, straightening up, hitching her skirt to her thigh, and swinging one leg over the rail. For one second, I caught a generous flash of toned thigh—and a shadowed snatch of panty higher—but if we went much further, we’d lose Cyrus for sure.

“Where the fuck are you going?” I said, springing up from where I’d been leaning with her.

Sofi grinned. “Don’t you want to see it?” she asked musically, tilting her head toward the lagoon. With that, she swung her other leg over and pushed off the rail, disappearing into the grass below, leaving me staring after her.

I clenched my jaw and swung a leg over the rail. So much for Cyrus overhearing any of our conversation. Fuck it! Yes. Yes, I wanted to see it. Though I wasn’t exactly sure what she was talking about—I was sure that my answer was yes.

I leapt down and jogged to catch up with her. She had already wriggled her feet free of the heels and was now wandering barefoot in the marshy grasses.

“It’s beautiful,” she sighed, watching me closely. We broke through the hedge of trees—all armored with warning and no trespassing signs—before arriving on the narrow shore of the lagoon. “I’m here to have some fun and forget everything else, Leo. That’s all.” Her eyes ticked over me. “It’s just lucky for you that I think you look like a lot of fun.”

Her fingers went to the buttons of her dress, popping them open.

“What are you doing?” I asked. Traitorous Cock sprang to attention again.

Her dress landed in a pile at my feet, followed by her underwear and watch.

“What do you think I’m doing?” she asked teasingly. “Let’s get in there.”

“Yes,” I rasped. “Let’s.”

Her nipples were the color of milk chocolate and taut with excitement, her pubis bearing a thin strip of dark, curly hair: the root of womanhood. A magnificent swell of blood thundered through my veins, a sweet throb concentrating on my dick. Sofi swayed side to side, breasts bouncing lightly with each shift of her weight. She grinned and turned from me. My eyes trailed to her ass and I launched myself at her mindlessly, forgetting the plan, the campaign. I enwrapped her from behind. One of my hands plunged into her hair, while my other plunged between her legs, and my mouth opened, inhaling her scent.

Sofi exhaled audibly and twisted her arms up, circling the back of my neck and flowing up into my hair.

“If we’re going to do this heist right,” I growled, my mouth roving over her naked throat, up to her ear, “then I need to stop thinking about how you might be sweet enough to eat with my morning coffee.” My middle finger slid between her lower lips and darted rhythmically over her clit, bringing her knees to buckle and her ass to press deeper into me. Whatever rust I might have developed was getting lubricated pretty fucking quickly.

Sofi turned in my arms and grasped the collar of my shirt, tearing it open and sending buttons flying into the sand. “Fuck it,” she sighed. “I’m on vacation.” My mouth crashed down on hers, our bare skin rubbing together creating an alchemical reaction, brewing electricity in my belly. I dropped to my knees and stretched one of her legs over my shoulder, cracking her thighs open and trailing biting kisses over the tender inside. My brother had been right. Her legs were perfect—I particularly loved how shamelessly they could wrap around a man’s head.

My tongue flicked over her clit, testing the waters, and all reason swirled away. I scooped her other thigh onto my other shoulder and slammed her down onto the beach, lapping at her sex lavishly, as sweet as her sweat, melting in my mouth like that cheesecake, losing track of the time, forgetting why we were even here if it wasn’t to bring her to a bone-racking climax. Her hands snaked beneath my shirt and her nails bit into my shoulders. The pain only drove me onward. I squeezed her plush ass and, when she suddenly climaxed, as suddenly and heavily as our rain showers, I was at the brink of exploding myself.

“Been a while?” I asked from between her legs. She came so swiftly—I had to ask.

“Never like that,” she breathed, staring up at the night sky in a kind of confusion. “Never that—that fast…”

I unfastened my belt and whipped it off, and if you’d asked me how this related to the campaign, I would’ve said, “What fucking campaign?” If you’d asked me my name, I would’ve said, “What fucking name?”

A smattering of giggles broke my concentration on our dream-like little bubble, and I looked up to the balcony overlooking the lagoon. Some smug club-hoppers were there, watching us like children at the zoo: two losers with identical platinum hairstyles, and one paint-splattered, low-lidded brunette version of Madeline.

“Hey, kids, why don’t you go back inside,” I called up to them. They were lucky that I happened to be feeling really fucking good right now. “This channel is a little too mature for you.”

“I don’t see no screen between us, brother,” the taller of the two losers called down to me. “Why don’t you tag me in when you’re done? Spread the wealth, you know? We could all share in the fun.” The guys laughed and slapped high fives.

I looped the belt around my fist, the rectangular buckle on my knuckles, and stood, blood pulsing in my temple. Sofi scampered toward the pile of rumpled clothing like a frightened animal. “Don’t worry,” I called back to her, galloping toward the deck and launching myself up its structural supports, vaulting over the rail and back onto the wooden boards. “The only tagging he’s gonna get will be on his toe.”

The guy probably hadn’t realized how big I was from the top of this deck. His eyes bulged. “Hey, look, man, I—”

But my fist hit the words while they were still coming out of his mouth, another planting into his lamentably soft belly. The second guy lunged onto my back from behind, but I tossed him off easily, and gravity did all the rest. He collided with a lounge chair and rolled, groaning. He chose to stay down, and I planted an elbow between the first guy’s shoulder blades, then a foot into his chest, and then I heard a scream in the distance. The brunette was running back inside, calling for help. Please. The loser was fine; he was on his hands and knees, and his face was bleeding freely onto the deck, but he was fine. I had only meant to hit him once. The rest had all been a kinetic landslide, fizzling away in my muscles now. The point was that the loser twins were fine.

I tugged the kerchief from my back pocket and let it fall down next to him. “Apology accepted,” I muttered.

“Come down here with me,” Sofi’s voice called from the wooden planks, and I saw her face between the bars of the rail. “We’re about to get kicked out of two places in one day, and this is one I’d actually like to come back to!”

I glanced into the club and saw that she was correct: the traumatized brunette was trundling toward the doors with bouncers in tow. I smirked. More security. Cute. I flung a thigh over the railing and vaulted, joining Sofi on the marshy ground and unwrapping the belt from my knuckle. I felt strangely exuberant and light-hearted for having fought two millennial douche-bags just now. I still wore Sofi’s scent like a cologne, and looking at her brought back the torrent of desire and dream I’d been feeling. I didn’t want this to end. For the first time since I was an actual kid, I felt young.

“Maybe we should just get out of here,” she panted, still fastening the top buttons of her dress.
Hell yes. Excellent idea.
“They’ll be looking for us now, anyway.” Her eyes burned into mine intently. “Want to just—head to my place? Finish…talking?” Her eyes roved the parking lot. At the same time, she was wrapping her hair up into a braid down one side of her shoulder. “That would be a good idea—except that—my car isn’t here anymore.”

“What?”

“Yup.” She sighed. “I gave Madeline my keys and wallet and phone—everything—before I went to go dance. And it looks like she took my car.”

I
guess
we all have our motives, our plots, our secrets. It was after midnight on a Sunday—technically, a Monday, now—and my car wasn’t in the Rainbow Disco parking lot. I went to look for Leo’s brother, Gabe, but he was also missing from the club’s interior. Leo seemed less alarmed and concerned than I was. He said that this was typical Gabe, and I had to admit that it was typical Madeline, too.

“Well,” I said, trying not to look too girlishly blissful, “I suppose we could just take your car over to Uncle Ronnie’s.”

“Oh.” Leo frowned. “Hmm. Tonight is no good for me. But I can drive you back.” He dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked his car, the powder blue Porsche 911, its body sleek and narrow as a blade.

My brow dented with disappointment, and even I was surprised at how crestfallen I felt. There’s only one reason that a man can start to fuck a girl on a beach, but will refuse to take her home: another woman waiting on him elsewhere. “Um…” I cleared my throat. “Forget it. You know what, I can just call a taxi. It’s fine.”

“Nope. You’re too pretty, and it’s too late,” he insisted dismally, as if he, too, hated this fact about himself. He went to the passenger side, unlocked it, and opened it, gesturing to the empty seat. “Please, get in.”

I climbed into the car and immediately slid off my shoes, smiling gratefully up at him. Damn it, I felt stupid. He hesitated before smiling back and went to the driver’s side, climbing in. I supposed it wasn’t that big of a rejection, really. There are lots of reasons a man might have for not following a woman back to her place and performing unholy ceremonies on her body. Sure. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean he was married. Hell, it was my place he didn’t want to see, not his. And we hardly knew each other, anyway. It didn’t matter.

We backed out of the lot and got on the road, a thin ribbon of highway which ran alongside the coast before it cut through the various homes of Aurora Beach waterfront.

I rolled down the window and propped my feet on the dash, enjoying the warm salty air coursing through the cabin of the car. I parted my legs slightly, letting the winds travel between my legs and flick my skirt slightly open. That was better. Exhaling, I told myself not to worry too much about the mysterious hunk who didn’t want to go back to my place.

I glanced over at Leo and caught his eyes on my legs. I smiled to myself. He’d been trying to hide it ever since we’d met, but there are some things a man just can’t hide. One of them is a throbbing, rock hard erection.

“The thing is, Sofi, you’re twenty-five, not twelve,” Leo said. Weird thing to say.

“Twenty-seven, actually,” I corrected. “But thank you.”

“So, why are you here? Visiting your uncle for the summer, I mean. Not necessarily in this car right now. Sounded like you were confessing back there. Running away from something?”

I shrugged. “I needed to get away. Blow off some steam. Go where no one would know me.”

“Got any warrants I should know about, before I hire you?” he asked casually.

“No, no, nothing like that,” I answered, grinning up at him. “It’s just…” I trailed off and made no effort to pick my sentence back up. I looked out to the ocean beyond the window instead.

“You can tell me,” he coaxed. My eyes flashed to his. He was watching me with an unexpected kind of softness. Which was the last word I would ever apply to him.

“I got my heart kind of broken by this duplicitous prick named Anthony,” I confessed readily.

“Mm, duplicitous. Good word.”

Now I smiled again, unable to help myself. He was so weird. “Well, I did finish three semesters at the university,” I said, self-deprecating.

“So, Anthony was a cheater?”

“A liar.” My face darkened, and the smile completely faded. “He pretended to be all kinds of things that he wasn’t,” I went on, mournful. “Tragic background, heroic occupation, and a fast-paced, dreamy life. All of it stage setting and sound effects.” My hand drifted in the air, indicating the invisible nature of Anthony’s imaginary life. He had volunteered with the fire department—not true. He had been a foster child his whole life—not true. He was learning to fly planes for his foster father’s charity—not true.

“Hm,” Leo said. “I hate to take the side of a duplicitous prick, but…I can see why a man might want to make himself appear bigger than he actually is, just to get to know you.”

I smiled and just stared at him for a minute. The wind kept flicking at his hair, and his profile against the window was rugged and austere. I slid a little closer to him, slinging an arm around the back of the leather seat. Madeline was probably right. I was probably setting myself up for a fall.

“Some men are larger than life without the sound effects.” My other hand, as if possessed, crept over to Leo’s lap, sliding easily across the smooth muscle of his thigh, and down against the defined bulge of his cock, straining against the fabric. I felt it pulse against my thumb and remembered with crystal clarity how he had flipped me onto my back on that beach, how his Ivy League haircut had looked, messed between my hands, and how dutifully he’d brought orgasm charging through me
with his attentive tongue. How he’d clutched my ass with his big hands and pressed me to his face like a dinner plate. He’d been savage, and I bet my soldier could do it again—with his big general this time.

My nose nuzzled against the space where his hair and the back of his neck met, inhaling the mixed scent of musky aftershave and salty night air. I sighed and saw the gooseflesh prickle over his skin.

I found the zipper of his pants and peeled it down, my hand slithering in and fishing out his member. Then I leaned forward and whispered against his ear, “The score is undeniable—but I’m doing this all for you.”

“For me?” he repeated, his voice cracking as I stroked upward, firmly, just once. His legs and spine stiffened in anticipation. “What? Why?”

“Because I want you,” I whispered into his ear. “And you need me.”

The warm wind roared around us, and I was able to see his hair mussed again. The cross-breeze in the car tore through my braid and set my hair free. His face tensed and only his eyes remained steady, planted to the road. Everything else writhed and seethed along with me as I moved over his cock again, and again. His hips began to buck gently beneath my touch, and I bit my lower lip, driven onward by his eagerness—then he tugged the wheel to the side and I collapsed against his chest, breathless and startled.

He was tapping the brake. “Move,” he commanded roughly. I leaned away from him and he stretched his hand toward my lap, but instead of going between my legs, he grasped the gear shift and maneuvered it into park.

I smiled wickedly and leaned into him again, grasping his exposed rod and pumping it up and down. His head rolled back on his neck one time, then he pulled himself upright again and glared at me, as if considering something, his eyes dark, merciless, even with my hand wrapped around his rock hard cock.

I was certain that this moment could only culminate in one way, when Leo startled me by taking one of his hands, gripping my wrist, and yanking me into his lap. “Get over here,” he growled. I squealed with surprise and grinned down at him. Still drenched from the oral he’d given me earlier, I felt his thick head nudging at my entrance as soon as I straddled his lap.

“But—Leo,” I chided, shocked that Mr. Ivy League, was really Mr. Hyde on the inside. I should’ve guessed that his tie and kerchief weren’t just hiding a nasty temper. They were hiding a nasty hard-on, too. “Right beside the road? Like animals?” I teased.

“If I had my kerchief, I’d shove it in your little mouth,” he told me, wrapping one arm around my waist and driving me downward. A riot of electricity charged through my legs and my head rolled on my neck as he thrust into me deeply, wild-eyed, full of anticipation. I shouted with the suddenness of the sensations rocking through me.

But he threaded one hand through my hair and pulled me closer. “I still have my tie,” he breathed, ripping off the loose tie draped over the side of his neck. He threaded it around my wrists and stretched my arms into the air, securing me to the overhead visor. My torso dangled in front of him like a slab of meat. He leaned close to my ear. “I could tie you to the steering wheel and do this the whole way home,” he promised me, flicking my dress open like an expert. He kissed my ear—the most strangely tender and unexpected gesture—and an electrical bolt moved through my body. I pumped up and down, writhing over him, as his tongue slithered down my neck and to one of the nipples that dangled almost directly in his face. I couldn’t. I didn’t have the strength.

I wanted to run my hands down his exposed chest, his buttonless shirt pulled apart by the wind through the open windows, but I couldn’t. I wanted to kiss him, but I couldn’t. I strained against the tie binding my wrists, but Leo gripped my hair and tugged me back. “Work for it,” he breathed, only inches from my face. He was still inside me, but our rhythm slowed to a stop.

“You’re difficult as hell!” I cried.

“You love it,” he reassured me, covering his mouth with mine. I exhaled through my nose and kissed him fully, deeply, withering as I dangled in front of him.

Then he pulled away and rammed into me with all the force of his hips. I shrilled and pulled on the visor, cringing with mind-numbing pleasure. He was seriously going to kill me with that thing.

For a while, my eyes squeezed shut, and I lost track of time. We just moved together seamlessly, desperately, like music, and when I opened my eyes again, his mouth was tight with concentration, his eyes bolted to me as if I was a piece of deadly machinery he was wielding. I surged closer and kissed him again, and this time, he let me. In spite of all the constraints, the kiss was striking in its softness. I whimpered into his mouth again. I knew I was about to come like crazy. A heavy storm brewed at the base of my abdomen and I felt his wide palm come sliding up my throat and secure itself over my windpipe. As he applied a steady pressure, my face suddenly tingled hotly, and I pulled away from his plush lips, my eyes bulged open and focused on him.

“Don’t worry,” he breathed. “I’ve got you.”

He drove one hand into my hair and clenched a fist, pulling my throat further open, causing bright silver spots to dance in the periphery of my vision. I felt high. My eyelashes kissed closed and I felt him pound into my pussy with fervor, no pauses, no hesitations. My mouth spread wide in a silent cry of pleasure. God, I wanted to be closer to him!

“Go on,” he instructed, “let go, Sofi. I’ve got you.”

My teeth sank into my lower lip and I arched harder, allowing my body to do as told. Spasms of pleasure rocked through my torso, down into my knees, knocking my gyrations out of synch, so overwhelmed that I stopped moving and just started shaking instead. He lunged forward, biting hungrily at my breasts, sucking on my nipple before his tongue burned up into my neck, and then he let go of himself, too, with a long, low groan.

“Ah, fuck,” he called into my hair, against the skin of my throat. “Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck.” His hips bucked and he shuddered hard…then slumped away. He shook his head as if dizzy, as if someone had just punched him in the face.

I slumped back onto the steering wheel and sighed, pleased with myself, with both of us. My arms hung limply from the overhead visor.

“God,” Leo breathed. “That was…different.” He blinked and shook his head again.

“You’re telling me.” I grinned and glanced up at the tie which was starting to chafe my aching wrists. “Little help here?”

Leo’s eyes roved over my body appreciatively. He ran one hand over my torso, playing idly with a breast as he spoke. “I don’t know. I kind of like you like this.”

I shuddered at the sensation of his hands so roughly traveling over my nipple. “I like me like this too,” I confessed, “but it’s hard to steal anyone’s heart with your hands tied behind your back.”

Leo’s eyes ticked over me and he smiled softly. “You would think,” he murmured, his hands going to the knotted tie and loosening it. The tie fell away and my arms dropped. I rubbed my hot pink wrists and smiled knowingly, hitching up my leg and climbing off him. Argh, juices everywhere. Our clothes were respectively ruined, rumpled and musky with victory.

“Call me crazy, but I feel like you might want to sleep over at my place after all,” I said, braiding my thoroughly mussed curls again. “Maybe we could try this one more time—on a nice soft bed.”

Leo swallowed. “You know, I don’t think so,” he answered breathlessly. “Another time, Sofi. As I said, tonight isn’t good for me.”

“Are you…sure?” I panted, struggling to organize the hair that had gone everywhere with all the blood still charging through my veins. Too much was going on to comprehend more rejection simultaneously. What was his problem? I thought we’d had a moment there—an undeniable moment—and I was used to having any man I wanted, as many times as I wanted. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had told me that it wasn’t a “good time” for them—because it had never happened before. “Sure you don’t wanna come over and just…hang out? You don’t have to spend the night—”

“Sorry, Sofi,” he told me, marked by discomfort. He cleared his throat and wouldn’t make eye contact. “I really shouldn’t.”

That was what a married man would say. Fucking great.

I pouted and directed him to my uncle’s estate without letting a single digit drift into his space, fuming. The rest of the ride, even filled with the wind and the ocean view, felt frigid and desolate, as if I’d been plunged into ice water. Damn it. Married. Damn it! Only a married man would do kinky, desperate shit like tie you up and gently choke the shit out of you, because he was tired of getting laid in the same position, at the same time, by the same woman. I called myself an idiot over and over again. And fuck did I hate when Madeline was right.

Leo kept glancing over at me, confused by the change in my temperature, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of looking back.

We pulled up to the gates and I entered the nine-digit code. He drove up to the sweeping front steps and climbed out of the car to open my door.