Read Bad Boy's Baby Online

Authors: Sosie Frost

Bad Boy's Baby (39 page)

One good fight and my suppressed emotions and memories would boil over. We’d have another disastrous kiss.

Which would lead to a
good
kiss.

And then even more.

It couldn’t happen. As far as I was concerned, Zach’s stay in the mansion was a business arrangement.
Strictly
business until I got my trust and he shipped out wherever they needed superheroes with egos bigger than the country they defended.

“Okay, fine.” I pointed the phone at him. “Make sure I’m listed as the primary contact. I’ll be back in a couple hours after I fix my schedule. Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.”

“You can count on me.”

He mock saluted and then drank straight from the milk carton.

Damn it, I nearly smiled. I escaped from the kitchen as quickly as I could without looking suspicious.

Bad idea. Very bad idea. Worst possible idea
.

I repeated the words in a quick cadence. It didn’t help. I sought refuge in my car and headed back to the campus. I tried not to think about Zach. I got to the main gate before his grin popped into my head again.

Not too bad for a first attempt. I made it half a mile, but it wasn’t enough. My fingers curled over the steering wheel as I chastised myself. I’d have to try harder.

“No way,” I murmured. “You are not trying anything
Hard
. Not ever again.”

No matter how much my idiotic body wanted it.

Step-brother. Stealing your inheritance. Worst possible idea.

God, he was a great kisser.

I rolled onto campus a mess of nerves, stress, and a horrid combination of shame and unfulfilled need.

The few students taking their summer classes stared at my sleek Mercedes, but I swore they glared at me, like they knew what I did. I checked to make sure I didn’t wear a giant sign looped over my body, sandwich-board style.

Come see the amazing brother-fucker. Gaze upon the most regretted life decision since the twerking Miley Cyrus!

I kept my head down and blouse buttoned, trying to look as non-sexual deviant-y as possible. Of course, that meant every hound from the dining hall to the education building tried their luck. But
baby
didn’t sound as good coming from the twiggy idiots playing ultimate Frisbee in the middle of the admissions hall. I ducked below a wobbly pass and burst into my advisor’s office.

Professor Sweeten was anything but sweet. She graded on favorites, changed editions of the textbook every year so the incoming students couldn’t buy used books, and hated anyone who ever disagreed with her opinions. Granting her tenure was like giving the devil the keys to the church and wondering why the collection plate was empty. And cracked. And covered in sulfur.

“Good afternoon, Professor Sweeten.” I gave her my best smile. “Thank you for meeting with me. How are you—”

“What do you want?”

She couldn’t even bother to raise her wrinkled head to look me in the eye. She hacked—a smoker’s wheeze that sounded like it might have hurt, bless her shriveled heart.

“Um…I emailed earlier this week and asked if it were possible to change assignments for my student teaching position in the fall—”

“Oh,
you
.” She pushed the plastic frame of her glasses low on her nose and glanced at me. “I remember you. May Franklin.”

“Shay.”

“Right. You listen to me young lady. In any other circumstances with any other students, the answer would be a crystal clear N-O. Is that understood? You are assigned where you’re assigned. If you were a real teacher, this would be your
job
. You would be expected to move if you wanted to earn your salary and put food on your table. That’s what being an
adult
means.”

Oh, she was lucky I wore my heels or I would have thrown down right in her office.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

“I don’t care who your father is. Was.”

That made two of us. “What does he have to do with this?”

Professor Sweeten scoffed. “Hard to deny a student’s request when her father donated enough money to build a new wing for the library. You can have your reassignment. The best charter school in Buckhead is a dream job to those who
earn
the opportunity. Fortunately, with just the click of a pen, it’s yours.
Congratulations
.”

“Excuse me?”

“Pay attention, Miss Franklin. You may think you can waltz in here and buy your way into whatever position you want, but that’s not how my class works.”

She was kidding. She
had
to be. Anger prickled at my temples, but the indignation hadn’t hit my mouth yet.

Yet
.

Professor Sweeten tossed the reassignment form to me. “By the end of this semester, you’ll be lucky if you can afford a passing grade.”

I folded the paper and tucked it neatly into my purse. “With all due respect, ma’am, you haven’t seen the size of my bank account.”

I didn’t let her speak and slammed the door behind me. Her bookshelves rattled, and I could only hope I entombed her with her educational ethics books.

How dare she?

How dare anyone insinuate that I was
buying
my way through school?

So my father bought my car. So he paid outright for my tuition. So he ensured I had enough for books and the best meal plans and other amenities.

I sunk into the leather interior of my Mercedes. The HD display lit up under my fingertips.

The car had air-conditioned seats.

I banged my head against the wheel. I knew what it looked like, but I wasn’t
buying
my way through life. I worked my butt off!

Still, it was going to be hard to convince
anyone
while I sipped a
mai tai
from the comforts of a resort-styled infinity pool overlooking my tennis courts and gardens. Not impossible, but the golden spoon in my mouth garbled my defense.

Damn it.

At least I had the reassignment, though a two-hour commute would have been Momma’s way of telling me to take my lumps before the lord himself started flipping tables in my kitchen.

I couldn’t worry about the gig or Professor Sweeten. I still had enough time this afternoon to wrestle with Dad’s investment portfolio. The stocks transferred smoothly but the retirement funds needed a bit of finagling. I had no idea what I was doing with any of it.

Suddenly, lounging in the pool all afternoon didn’t sound so bad.
If
Zach didn’t steal it. The man was a literal seal and spent most of his time swimming laps. If he could keep to one side of the resort-styled pool, he might have been good company. As much as it pained me to say it, he had been fun so far.

Zach could reach the top shelves in the kitchen for the popcorn. And he didn’t mind binge watching entire seasons of shows at once on Netflix. He also killed a house centipede for me, which should have canonized him as a goddamned saint.

He hadn’t made a pass at me. Hadn’t tried to kiss me. And he let me hold the remote.

So far, the sexual deviant was a perfect gentleman. His promise rang in my head.

The next time he came into my bedroom, he wasn’t leaving till morning.

Thoughts like
that
didn’t make the trip home any better. I pumped the radio and tried to think of anything but how fun a forbidden all-nighter would be.

Sin. Disaster. Perversion.

Muscle. Power. His lips…

That
offer
.

I screeched the car to a halt before I made it to the garage. I parked behind a little, red Porsche that hadn’t been there when I left.

Who drove the midlife-crisis-mobile?

I edged out of the car, and my heels clicked against the walkway. The front door abruptly opened.

A little blonde bunny slipped outside. She squeezed Zach’s hand goodbye.

Oh. He
had
to be kidding me.

I crossed my arms and let my arched eyebrow do the talking. Blondie got the hint. She fluttered her hair over her shoulder and batted her eyelashes at Zach. Her baby-blues stared at him with
some
intelligence, but she was still screwing around with a guy in a house that didn’t belong to either of them.

He was such an
asshole
. My shoes were too good to kick his ass out.

First a snotty professor who insulted my character, and now a step-brother
man-whore
who disrespected my home, inheritance, and my father’s estate?

No wonder he earned his nickname. The bastard got hard for anything that let him get close enough. If his
petty officer
waggled near me again, he’d be wise to go on high alert—defcon one. One word, and I’d go nuclear.

“Zach.” The blonde had a soft, sultry voice, and she wore a perfume to match. I’d never get that rosy scent out of the furniture. “Promise me you’ll do as I say.”

He smiled, but the dimples didn’t dig in deep. The dog knew he got caught. I was surprised he could even feel shame.

“Always, Gretchen.”

She hummed. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because if I listened, I’d never have to call you again.”

“You’re probably right.” She donned a pair of designer glasses and glanced me over before turning back to him. “I’ll see you next week.”

I pushed past him into the house. He scheduled his sexcapades in front of me!

Goddamn it. He teased me with a promise of a night of blind, perfect, passionate sex to mirror the amazing night we had before. Had I less willpower, morals, and a hell of a lot more alcohol in me, who knew what might have happened!

I didn’t care
how
many centipedes he dispatched for me. He was a no good, perverted, fiend who probably had a girl in every port. Now I was sure of it. He wanted to get with me so he could humiliate me and take my family’s money. Unbelievable.

The front door closed. I stormed into the kitchen.
His
dirty dishes cluttered the sink, including a glass with a lipstick print on it.

Gross.

Zach followed me. He should have crawled on his knees to apologize.

“This isn’t how it looks,” he said.

I turned, facing a man who thought only with his cock.  “Oh, so you
didn’t
invite Goldilocks over to my house?”

“Our house.”

“Don’t start.”

“Look, Gretchen is a close friend of mine. She was helping me with—”

“Stop,” I said. “I don’t need the details. I know
exactly
what she helped
you
with. The same thing I helped you with two weeks ago.”

“Shay—”

“You know what?” I took a cleansing breath. “You’re a grown man. You’re entitled to do whatever or whoever you like to do.”

“Listen to me—”

“I don’t care what you do, Zach. Drink the milk out of the carton. Invite over all your
friends
. But you
will
stay out of my way.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, from now on, we’re two separate people in this house. I’ll live my life, and you’ll have yours. I’m done with you.” I shoved the dirty plate and two glasses into his arms. “You can buy your own food, wash your own dishes, and keep out of my rooms. I want nothing to do with you.”

He laughed. “You think you’re just going to…ignore me? We
live
together, Shay.”

“No. We share the same house. That’s it.”

“The least you can do is hear me out.”

“Oh,
now
you want to talk?” I poked at his chest. “Where was that initiative two weeks ago? We needed to have a very important conversation before you decided to fuck your
sister
.”

“For Christ’s sake, you’re my
step
-sister.”

“You’re only after what doesn’t belong to you. And not just me. This house. The money.”

He had the audacity to get irritated. “The house and money are
legally
mine.”

“Not for long. Once you’re gone, I’ll be glad to get your ass-print off my furniture.”

I left him with his dishes. He yelled after me.

“So you’re giving me the silent treatment?”

That was the plan.

“It won’t work, Shay.”

Watch me. I didn’t answer. He didn’t deserve it.

He chuckled from the kitchen, setting the plates back in the sink.

Unwashed
.

“This is going to be a fun game, Shay. Just you wait. You’ll break before I do.”

Like hell. Nothing else was going to break around here. Not my resolve. Not my anger.

And not my heart…even if a tiny fragment already cracked.

Used and hurt.

Chapter Nine - Shay

 

 

Sex dreams didn’t count as incest…right?

I mean, people couldn’t control what they dreamed about. What flashed in my head wouldn’t damn me forever as a perverted, reprehensible sex-fiend. It just meant that the heart-pounding, muscle-rending, core-clenching visions were the result of my subconscious—a part of my mind that was much more deviant than I realized.

I tried to avoid Zach, but three days of radio silence was hardly a punishment. We still lived in the same space, and the mansion somehow shrunk to the size of a walk-in closet. We bumped on the stairs. Brushed hands in the garage. Accidentally blessed each other when we sneezed in the hall.

Zach grinned whenever he saw me, and I fell for the dimples every time.

I stayed away from him during the day. But at night?

My dream had us meeting in the garden, embracing under the roses, and committing delicious sins right there in the dirt. It was where we belonged. We were sex-crazed, immoral menaces, and it nearly ruined our lives.

Zach thought our indiscretions were harmless. After all, our parents weren’t married that long. It was easy for
us
to rationalize, but if our friends or families found out? That was a shame I couldn’t confront yet.

Hell, I couldn’t even approach Zach after having the sexiest dream of my life. I hid in my room all day just to steer clear of him. I longed to busy myself with lesson plans, but nothing for my classes or student teaching gig had been assigned yet. I checked the calendar. Four months until I graduated from college, one semester early, all thanks to Dad. He bought me a couple extra credits my freshman and sophomore year because I planned to get out into the real world as soon as possible.

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