The Billionaire and the Con Artist: A Bad Boy Romance (Bad Girls Series Book 1) (13 page)

I
t wasn’t a dream
.

My eyes open and I see Axel still asleep next to me and relief floods me.

I’m not sure why I’m so relieved—he could be the key to my arrest, my destruction, one way or another, but it calms me that he is by my side, even if he’s just biding his time to get his revenge.

I know all about the long con, though I never use it in relationships because I’ve never been in one that had me so emotionally entangled that I went on scorned woman path of rage and destruction.

Taylor has, though. Although, who knows if that story she told me is even true? Maybe she just told it to me to demonstrate a point, as I eventually realized she did quite often.

It just became too coincidental that she had an experience for every lesson she wanted to impress upon me.

I don’t want to disturb Axel—he looks so peaceful—so I quietly make my way to the furthest bathroom.

God, I’m so gross. Axel left his mark all over me.

And inside me.

Shit
. I have to remember to take plan B asap.

Damn it, I can’t think properly when I’m around him.

Once I shower, I just wrap a towel around myself until I notice an actual bathrobe. Leave it to these fancy rooms to anticipate all needs.

I study Axel’s handsome face for a bit, then I head over to the desk and grab the hotel pen and notepad.

I feel inspired, and though I don’t exactly have the right tools, I make do, sketching out what’s in my head.

Then I hop back into bed with Axel, wanting to share his warmth again.

Who knows how long I’ll have the chance? I better enjoy this while I can.

No man has ever made me feel like this, no man has ever given me pleasure the way Axel did last night.

I snuggle up next to him, and despite my intentions not to disturb him, Axel turns to me and I wait for his eyes to open—the first split-second reaction is usually the most honest and revealing.

When his eyes open, he immediately smiles and I don’t catch a hardened look in them at all, one that would indicate what he really thinks of me, one that’ll give an idea what actually he has planned.

His eyes are immediately warm and… I’m not sure how to describe it, but it makes me feel like my heart is liquefying.

"Hey," he says softly. "Was hoping you’d still be here. Had a nightmare you ditched me again."

He is still smiling warmly and I don’t know what to say.

His eyes look so affectionate.

He reaches over and caresses my arm.

"Um, I’m hungry," I say, and my stomach takes that moment to let out the most embarrassing growl. As if I’m not dealing with enough already.

I look away, my cheeks heating terribly.

I hear a light chuckle before a finger grabs my chin, nudging me to look back into Axel’s sparkling green eyes.

"I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you, April," he says gently, then grabs me until I’m lying on top of him, laughing as the sheet falls away and our chests and stomachs meet skin to skin once more.

"Hello! Present at Morning Wood Academy," I say, trying to be light and funny but sounding totally awkward.

He smiles. "It’s not just sex, April. We have something here. I know you feel it—I can see it in your eyes." He brings his lips to mine and I get lost in his kiss.

What the hell is this feeling? It’s like I can’t control it, but I kind of don’t want to?

For no good reason at all, I trust it to lead me to some kind of heaven, and I can’t do anything about it.

I don’t like the hold it has on me, but for now, I want to see where it leads.

I know, I know—curiosity killed the cat and all that, but damn it, what we have feels too good and I’m going with it for as long as I can.

"I’ll order in room service but we should probably get going… "

He stops and sort of freezes when I start rubbing my smooth, slick mound on his stiff erection.

No reason we can’t squeeze another quickie in before we get a proper move on the day.

Besides, I plan to savor every moment I have left with him, including, or especially this part.

I want to, but I can’t believe for a moment he’s actually going to stay with me and try to give this… thing between us a real shot.

I grab his engorged rod, positioning it so that his tip is just at my entrance, then prepare myself for a ride as I lower myself on it.

* * *

"
D
o
you have any idea where she might be?" Axel asks as he moves around our little buffet table.

He’s still wet from our shower, wearing only a white towel around his waist and making me want to jump his bones again.

Lucky for him, I’m a little distracted by the spread before me: the various arrangements of eggs, the fruit, and things I don’t recognize. I think Axel said something about caviar. I mean, who does that? For breakfast?

"Taylor is excellent at dancing around specifics. The only info I have is that she was working a job that apparently didn’t quite work out as she’d hoped. But, of course, that whole thing could have been a lie too."

I roll my eyes.

“Plus she can be pretty hard to spot. Last time I saw her, she was sporting black hair. By now, she could be a blonde with a pixie wearing dark brown contacts. The only thing distinctive on her that she has a hard time covering up is her scar.” I make a motion with my finger. “It’s right here on her cheek.”

"Good to know. But keep thinking—anything she said before or after you guys got here could help. I’ll chase whatever name she checked into the motel you were in... "

I’m just shaking my head because fat chance she’ll check in under that name again.

And then it hits me.

"Wait, I’ve got it!"

Axel’s eyes turn to focus on me, and I get that warm, tingly feeling running through me again, the horrifying impression that I won’t know what to do with myself if I don’t get to look into those green eyes of his every day from now on.

"She’ll want more where that came from. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, right?"

He smiles like he has some inside joke about it.

"She knows a lot about you—I told her what you look like, and she knows you’re loaded. She knows you fall quite easily for a pretty young thing… "

He sort of rolls his eyes at that and I ignore it.

"You’re a well that hasn’t really been tapped—I just took a sip. Taylor knows there’s a lot more where that came from and that you won’t know her by sight. If she ran into you, she’d try to suck more out of you, one way or another."

I have to fight the rage filling me at the thought of her trying to come on to him, offering to blow him, touching him in any manner.

Great, now I’m suddenly jealous too.

"We can use you as bait,” I press on. “She knows I had no plans to come back here since I stole that suite because it’s too dangerous. You or the people whose credit I used could have people all around here looking for me, and after a hit like that, you don’t go back to the scene of the crime—at least, not unless heavily disguised. And she took all my disguises with her.

"I told her everything you told me—about your friends being there and everything. She has enough intel to begin. She knows a bunch of young rich guys are around, ripe for the plucking, and she knows how to find you guys by spotting you."

"So what exactly did you tell her about me?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

He’s so cute, even when he’s infuriating.

"Frickin’ everything. I should have known something was up when she asked me for details. Height, eye and hair color, what you were wearing. That your wrist is obviously missing a watch," I say with a nod at the paler, watch-shaped piece of skin on his arm. “You’re an easy target for her, so she’ll troll the casinos looking for you—while keeping her eyes open for other opportunities."

"Okay, well, that does it! I’ll get my rugged handsome look together and get ready to sing my siren song for your friend. Is she as hot as you?"

I slap him on the arm.

"Just need to know how much acting skill I’ve gotta use here."

I smile but wonder, Would he find her hot?

She’s attractive enough, and definitely charming when she wants to be.

Could Axel find himself pulled to her?

She’s obviously more masterful at this whole thing than me, and he’s a rich playboy stringing me along until he gets his watch back.

Would he go further than necessary to humiliate both Taylor and me? Would he fuck her too?

"You can stay here; in fact, I definitely hope you’ll be here when I return. I already told you I’m not pressing charges or anything.”

He goes to his crumpled clothes and pulls out a wallet.

So he didn’t even bother to hide it away in a safe or anything—he trusted me to not run off with it.

Interesting.

He pulls some bills from it and holds them out to me.

“Here—I want you to get some new clothes and whatever you might need. I know Taylor cleaned you out and as much as I’d love for you to remain naked, we’ll probably go to dinners and other dates at some point and you should probably wear something then.”

I return his smile, then grab and count the bills, thinking.

His face takes on a worried look. "Is it not enough? I can… "

"It’s way more than I need. Where do you think I shop?" I say. “This can stock my closet for a week!"

"Then it’s obviously not enough. I meant for you to buy more than a week’s worth of stuff. I’m obviously keeping you longer than that so we’ll work on the rest later."

“So is this some sort of bribe? ‘More where that came from, babe—as long as you’re here when I get back,” I say in a horrible imitation of his voice.

His smile widens.

"Maybe," he says, then he notices my sketch on the desk. “What’s this?” he asks, going over to it.

I happily bound up to him.

“Just something I threw together this morning while you were still asleep. I got inspired and this is just some stupid comic starring you and me.”

I smile, feeling strangely self-conscious all of a sudden.

I can really draw—it’s not like I threw down some stick figures, but I’m a little embarrassed about the representations of us, I guess.

I drew us as sort of partners in crime, although just in the figurative sense because we’re on the right side of the law—except for the vigilante part, I guess.

We’re both masked caped crusaders, and it’s just a few stupid panels of us tracking down a jewel thief, one who happens to resemble Taylor, and our triumph in the end. And then the two of us sharing a victory kiss.

Axel looks amused, impressed.

When he finishes checking it out, he looks at me, and I try to ignore how much it looks like he’s drinking me in, how much it seems he’s truly in amazement of me.

My instinct to flee is strong, but something inside me is starting to rival it in strength with the opposite intention.

A
pril is full of surprises
.

Whether she realizes it or not, she told me a lot more in her comic than the story of some quickie crime-fighting tale.

The way she drew us, the way she ended it—she wants us to be together, but she might not have admitted it to herself yet.

She certainly hasn’t admitted it to me, and she still seems a bit jumpy and unsure, so I know it’s a huge risk separating from her.

There’s a bigger chance April will run off with the cash I gave her, deciding that it’s more than enough to make her Vegas conning trip successful, but even if that were the case, I can’t stand the idea of her being broke and alone, so I really don’t care if she takes my money.

I want April to be able to buy whatever she needs, but most of all, I want her to stick around instead; I want her to stay with me.

I’m not even concerned if she’s still conning me because she’s here with me right now.

She seems like she needs money, I have loads of it, and if she ends up staying with me longer because I am her access to it, I don’t think I’ve ever spent money on a more worthy cause.

To be honest, the best part of all this money is buying things that please me, things that entertain me.

Guys who go to the strip club and make it rain—if that shit actually makes them happy, then it’s totally worth it.

People pay millions for paintings, for houses they rarely live in, for surgeries they don’t need. The whole point is to buy some peace and happiness, to be able to get what you want, when you want it.

And I want April. I especially want April to be happy, cared for. Safe.

Time will tell whether she’ll make me have to track her down again or not.

I think we had a sort of breakthrough, and I’m more inclined to think she knows the value of what we have and wants to see where it goes too.

But first thing’s first: we need to find that bitch who hurt her. And get my goddamned watch back.

* * *

I
send
April away with a driver to do her first round of shopping.

I had some clothes and toiletries delivered to the suite for her since all she had was the clothes she’s been wearing the past two days, and she happily finally changed out, but she insisted she needed to go shopping for some distinct things by herself.

I supplied her with a new phone so she can reach me, and I her and told a few people to keep an eye on her, but I trust she’ll return.

Meanwhile, I’m bringing Nate up-to-date on our plans, and he and I are putting phase two into motion.

When April texts me to say she’s back in our room, I practically bolt out of his suite with a promise to check back in with him soon.

I re-enter my suite, my blood rushing through my body in anticipation of seeing April again.

"Check out my new look!" April says brightly as she exits one of the bathrooms in a red bob wig and black-framed glasses.

She looks pretty nerdy—like she’s been working as a librarian a few years, but she’s still damned cute. Even with that horrible unflattering blouse covering up most of her assets.

“What’s that for?” I ask, unable to hide my amusement.

“I’m coming too! I’ll hang out in the casino or something, maybe play a few slots.” Off my look, she says, “I want to see you catch her! And I don’t want to be recognized.”

“Nah, you don’t have to do that. You don’t have to put yourself out there again.”

“Well, even so, too many people around here have seen me in my natural state. I need to stay disguised.”

“Who else is looking for you that really matters? I found you.”

“Exactly. Which means others can. I only have one set of folks potentially on my tail, but with the kind of money I can use their plastic to book a suite with, they have the resources to find me too.”

“Fine, disguise all you want, but don’t hang out down there. Go shopping again—grab something nice for dinner tonight; I can send someone with you to pick out a dress, shoes, and jewelry. Don’t worry about any of this, April; Nate and I will take care of it. Just meet me back here later. I should have one heck of a story to tell you when I return.”

She nods, looking a bit disappointed.

I fill her in on the current plan.

I’m pretty much going to be doing what I would have been doing whether I’d run into April or not, hanging with my buds, working a table. Except I’ll be waiting for a certain scar-faced chick to scope me out.

I hand her some more bills and April agrees to go shopping for a few hours—for real clothes this time—and if everything works out, we’ll be back here, wrapped in each other’s arms before we know it.

When we kiss goodbye, I feel like a fucking newlywed who just got back from the honeymoon and is heading off to work.

I don’t want to go. I want to bask in whatever this is we have a little longer, stay soaked in her presence.

April is amazing.

I want to look into those eyes of hers, watch the cute way she smiles—sort of lopsidedly, a faint dimple on one cheek.

She’s so beautiful and underneath it all, she’s sweet. Despite everything.

I’ve seen so many sides of her, and I’m not certain of all the real ones just yet, but my gut believes the best of her.

She’s strong, obviously, considering all she went through, but she’s soft and vulnerable in a way that I’m helpless against. All I want to do is make sure she doesn’t hurt again.

I want her to feel, safe, protected, loved.

I shake my head like I’m trying to shake sense back in.

She’s sort of a femme fatale, a deadly combination of striking good looks, charm, femininity, and strength. Sonnets and plays have been written about women like her. For all I know, she’s a black widow spider.

And yet I’m happily floating right into her web.

Fuck.

I don’t know how she got me like this—how she managed to get in so quickly, but she is a skilled con artist, after all.

* * *

I
’m bummed
I haven’t hit Baccarat yet, but the more public craps table works best for our plans.

“All set up,” Nate says quietly.

I nod in acknowledgment.

“Can’t wait to get this over with so I can get back to April.”

Nate chuckles a bit. "You really like her," he says.

"Hm? Yeah, well, I said that before. She’s cute, she’s interesting... "

"No, I mean,
really
like her. I’d even venture to say you’ve fallen in love with her.”

He lets out a strange sort of laugh—like a cough of amusement.

"What? That’s kind of ridiculous. We’ve known each other, what—a few days?"

"You know how long my parents knew each other before they decided to get married? A week. They just knew the other was right for them. They both felt it—which is important by the way, because I’ve witnessed some one-sided messes—and they’re still married today, over twenty-five years later. And still sickeningly in love, I’ll add—over two decades later, and they still think each other’s the best thing since sliced bread. Even after having us!"

"That’s pretty rare, though."

"But obviously, it happens, which was my whole point. Time isn’t really the main factor when it comes to stuff like this. Meanwhile, my brother dated a girl for almost two years before he finally dumped her and put them both out of their misery. He never told her he loved her because he didn’t—he never fell in love with her. He had all kinds of time and it just didn’t happen. They kept trying to make it work because on paper, they were a match made in heaven, but they just didn’t click. You and April, you obviously click. I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you didn’t want to let her go.”

He shakes his head a bit. “I’ve never seen you like this—not after she-who-will-not-be-named anyway, and I just want the best for you. Despite the stress, it seems April can really make you happy, just by being with you, so if she feels the same, you guys should go for it. Strike while the iron’s hot.”

I stay quiet for a bit, processing his words despite trying not to.

I mean I guess I could be falling in love with her a bit, but it’s a tough thing to accept.

“Listen, I don’t need to think about that right now. The most important thing is that I get my damned watch back. I’ll see where to go from there.”

Man, it’s uncomfortable talking about that sort of thing.

I guess it’s mainly scary, having feelings like that about someone. I feel vulnerable in a way I haven’t felt in a while.

I know exactly where something like that leads—heartache. Possibly devastation.

Some people never recover from that, like my mom.

Loving someone else means everything about your own life is on the line in a way it wasn’t before. You’re exposed.

I’m definitely not sure that’s the direction I want to head.

People can potentially hurt me through her, and I’m not a fan of being controlled by someone else, having someone control me by using someone else.

Since getting over my dad leaving and being on my own in a world where money talks and having lots of it means I get my way the vast majority of times, caring about someone is a weakness I don’t care to feel—not when otherwise, I’m in a position where I’m in control.

With my mom and older brother gone, it was just me to worry about and I like it that way—it makes me feel pretty damned invincible.

* * *

I
feel eyes on me
.

It happens all the time—women liking what they see, trying to figure out how to approach me, or how much I’m worth. Fleeting glances, extended stares as they size me up.

But this one feels different, in a way that distinctly makes me feel like prey, and not just for sexual predation.

Then the feeling is gone, and I patiently wait for the predator to appear.

Pete joins us and says something I laugh heartily at, despite not knowing what the fuck he said—something about his latest conquest, no doubt—and I feel the preying girl before I see her as she sidles right up to my arm.

I turn and stare into a pair of hazel eyes and smile.

She is blonde—likely a wig, according to April—and she has a light scar on her cheek.

I smile back at her invitingly.