The Bad Guy Read online

  She shot an unsure glance to Link, who gave her a nod of approval. She seemed to stand straighter and moved forward into my arms. The touch of her silky dress beneath my fingers, the slide of her warm palm into mine—I was greedy for all of it. I kept a look of disinterest on my face, the most-used mask in my repertoire, even though every gear and cog inside me turned and clanked as if I were a machine waking up after a long, dark sleep. Her energy was like gasoline in my veins, powering me up for some mysterious purpose.

  We moved to the slow song, melding into the other dancers. She tightened in my arms, no longer at ease the way she was with him. She needed to be comfortable with me, to open up so I could see all her inner workings. Her eyes hid from mine as she looked everywhere but at me. I wanted to force her to tell me every thought that flitted through her mind. But that wouldn’t work. My father had worked on my finesse, as he called it, for years, to the point that I was the puppet of perfect manners, a marionette on a genteel string. Pull here, I smiled. Pull there, I offered condolences. No string led to a kidnapping option. But I still had a few tricks of my own.

  The song switched to another slow dance, the singer crooning an old Smoky Robinson tune. Though she was in my arms, her silence kept a wide expanse between us, one I intended to cross. I performed a brief calculus, trying to decide what a normal man would say in this situation, which string to pull. It was an equation I’d learned from my earliest days—figuring out what people expected so that no one would notice there was something wrong with me.

  She’d mentioned her job and seemed to enjoy it. I started there. “How many students do you have?”

  Her eyebrows arched, and she finally met my gaze. “Each class is about ten students, and I have five classes a day.”

  “Seems like a small class size?” I didn’t know since I’d been home schooled after the first grade. Apparently, the incident where I’d informed another first grader that I intended to disembowel him the next time he tripped me on my way to class was frowned upon by my parents and my private school.

  “It is. Trenton has an entire department devoted to fundraising to keep the educational standards top notch. We have a lot of legacies whose parents are one percenters living in the city. I sit on the financial aid board and make sure that we offer scholarships to children from underachieving areas, even if some of our alumni disagree.”

  “So you’re a teacher and a social justice crusader?”

  She stiffened. I didn’t like it.

  “I just care about every child getting a great education.” Her defensive tone told me I’d made a misstep.

  “I didn’t mean any offense.” I tried to solve her puzzle and choose the correct response to keep her talking. “I’m impressed, actually.”

  “Oh.” She blushed that delicious shade of pink. “Sorry. I guess I’m just used to blowback from parents on the need-based scholarships.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” I leaned closer, pretending I had to speak into her ear to be heard over the music. “What’s your favorite thing about teaching?” Inhaling her scent, citrus and floral, ignited an even stronger buzz inside me. Like bees building a hive in my brain, each of them humming for me to take my queen.

  “The students. Some of them are…let’s just say entitled. But there are quite a few who love learning as much as I do, which is saying something. And there are a few who I think could be first-rate scientists one day, or at least real movers and shakers in the STEM professions. They make me proud.” The tension in her body eased a bit more, and she smiled up at me. “What’s your favorite part of your job?”

  Her smile worked to unravel the black wire that wrapped around my heart. The sensation of falling and soaring melded into one. How could the slight upturn of her mouth create so much chaos? I wanted more.

  “Control.” I tightened my hand at her waist, feeling her move beneath the fabric. Her skin would be even softer, my fingers leaving red marks along the pale flesh. My teeth would bruise her, my marks lasting for days until I made fresh ones. But I was jumping ahead, which was unlike me. And I was thinking about bedding a woman, also unlike me. I’d been with women, taking my pleasure and then moving on, but I’d never sought one out. They always came to me, and if I was interested, I’d let them have a few hours of my time.

  “Sebastian?” Two lines appeared between her eyebrows. Had she been speaking and I’d missed it? Fuck.

  “I apologize. What were you saying?”

  The creases eased. “I was just saying that you must get quite a bit of control as CEO.”

  “Yes. It’s the family business, and my father has entrusted me with running it. I keep an eye on all departments, make sure they are sticking to the plan.” Father had to keep me occupied somehow, to make sure I didn’t end up in an institution. Little did he know that psychopaths made the best CEOs.

  “Link’s mentioned how involved you are in every little thing.” She stopped moving and frowned. “Oh, I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

  You’re right. You should never speak his name again. “It’s perfectly all right.” I pulled the string that set my lips into a practiced smile. “I’m sure my methods are a common complaint among the VPs. People think I became CEO solely because of my father. But I worked for it, spending time with the roughneck crews who cut trees for us, then at the sawmills, and finally touring retail sites.”

  “So you were a lumberjack?” Her eyes twinkled with interest.

  “I wore flannel and everything.”

  She laughed and began to move again, her body melting against mine as her fears eased. “That would be an interesting sight.”

  “I enjoyed it. At first light, I’d grab my chainsaw and head out with the crew. We didn’t talk much, just worked.” I told her the truth, a rarity for me. I was a creature of solitude, one who didn’t need or care for the restrictions of society. Being a CEO was its own sort of prison, but I owed it to my father to keep up appearances. “I think I got more done in those two months than I have in the five years I’ve been CEO.”

  Camille didn’t notice we’d moved away from the stage and into the darker area at the side of the ballroom. “I don’t know. Seems like you’ve done a lot. Link tries to tell me all the numbers, how much the company has grown and his ideas for how to make it even more successful on the marketing front.”

  I leaned in closer, my lips close to her ear. “I take it all that bores you?”

  Her breath hitched for a moment, but then she steadied herself. “I wouldn’t say it’s boring, just not my thing.”

  I pressed my lips against the shell of her ear and enjoyed the shiver that shot through her curvy body. “Then what is your thing?”

  “Plants.” Her voice trembled, setting the animal inside me alight. I wanted to devour her.

  “Ah, the Amazon trip.”

  “Yes.” She didn’t pull away as her words grew breathy. “It’s a dream of mine.”

  You’re a dream of mine.

  She took a deep breath and leaned her head back to catch my gaze. “I think you’ve danced me into a stupor. Heavy-handed in the boardroom, but light on your feet in the ballroom.” That smile again, the warmth blooming in her eyes and transferring to me. Did she even know the power she had?

  “Let’s test that theory.” I twirled her around, and she held onto me, her breasts pressing against my chest and her head tucked under my chin. I lifted her with one arm and spun. Her laugh against my throat woke up every nerve ending in my body until all I could feel was her. Euphoria, the closest I’d ever gotten to the sensation of happiness, washed over me. All it took was her, one taste of whatever magic she wielded.

  The song slowed to its end, and I reluctantly set her back on her feet. Pink highlighted her cheeks, and I couldn’t miss the sparkle in her eyes. She was exquisite, a treasure hidden in plain sight. One that I wanted for myself.

  “Thank you for the dance.” She ran her hand across my bicep and rested her palm on my chest.

  “My pleasure.
” It was. And I didn’t want it to be over. I kept her small hand in mine and pressed my palm against her lower back.

  Her breaths came in shallow flutters as the skin along her chest and neck turned a matching pink to the shade on her cheeks. Arousal. She found me attractive, enjoyed my touch.

  “There you are.” Link stepped up to us as a faster song began to play. He’d been watching the entire time. I could feel his possessive tendrils streaking through the crowd and trying to wrap around my Camille. He was foolish enough to think he still had a claim on her. The moment I saw her, his flimsy hold on her began to slip. I intended to sever it completely, by any means necessary. I’d heard about love at first sight, though I couldn’t claim that emotion. The need to possess her was what fired through my veins, not the sentimental nonsense of hearts and flowers.

  She dropped her hand. I had to let her go, even though murdering Link and tossing her over my shoulder seemed like the more expedient option. My father and the rest of the attendees would likely frown on my behavior. Camille backed away, the loss of her heat returning my insides to their usual barren state.

  Link wrapped an arm around her waist. A growl rose from my throat but got lost in the music. She shifted from one heeled foot to the other, nervous. I made her uncomfortable. She had no idea.

  “Great party.” He offered again, then pointed through the crowd to the hor d’oeuvres table. “I think we’ll see what’s on the menu.” He took her elbow and steered her away.

  An uncomfortable feeling settled in my chest. Acid reflux, perhaps, or some other form of indigestion.

  Link slid his hand to her lower back. My hands balled into fists, and I fought the urge to follow them. Her chestnut brown hair cascaded down her back in loose curls, the sway of her hips magnetic. But she was with him, when she should have been with me.

  The ache in my chest intensified. I’d have to stop by the pharmacy on the way home.

  Right before I lost sight of her, she turned and smiled at me, as if sending me a spark of hope.

  The spark lit an inferno. It blazed up and promised destruction for anything that got between us.

  She was mine. Even if I had to steal her.

  4

  Camille

  “What does the presence of these four micronutrients tell us about the specimen’s biochemistry?” I flashed the chlorophyll formation onto the screen, each molecule drawn by hand and labeled for iron, zinc, and copper.

  “That you have a nice ass.” A low voice from the back of the room.

  I spun as half the class laughed and the other half looked anywhere but at me. Minton Baxter, it had to be him. He grinned and pretended to be typing notes on his laptop.

  My heartbeat thudded in my ears, and I knew I had to take charge of the situation or else it would take charge of me. “Minton, may I see you outside for a moment?”

  A chorus of “oooohs” broke out across the room as he stood and sauntered through the desks.

  “Take out a piece of paper, all of you. When I get back, I expect each of you to have perfectly drawn examples of Lamprocapnos spectabilis.”

  I followed Minton into the hall and closed the door on the students’ groans. Blue lockers lined the empty hallway, and the gray tile floor gleamed under the fluorescents. Minton leaned against the wall next to the classroom door, his hands in his pockets and a cocky grin on his face.

  “What is going on with you?” I crossed my arms. “When you started the semester, you were engaged and doing well. Now, you cut class and create constant disruptions. Your grades have tanked. What am I missing here?”

  He shrugged. “I was just telling the truth.”

  “I think you know that your behavior is inappropriate, but you keep doing it anyway.” I needed to get inside his head, figure out the problem, and come up with a solution. There had to be a reason why he’d gone from top marks to class clown. “What’s the deal?”

  “Nothing.” He dropped his gaze and picked at the messy knot of his tie.

  “Is it your parents?”

  His fingers froze. “No.”

  “What is it that you’re not telling me?” I softened my voice. “I want to help you, Mint, if you’ll let me.”

  He met my eyes again, and I couldn’t mistake the pain that flashed across his face. Then it was gone. “I can think of a few ways you can help.” He licked his lips as his gaze roved up and down my body.

  I knew what he was doing—hiding behind inappropriate behavior to deflect from the real problem. But I wasn’t going to get through to him like this. “Get back to your desk. I expect you to turn in your drawing first thing tomorrow.”

  He huffed and returned to the classroom, closing the door too hard behind him. I chewed on my thumbnail as the slam reverberated down the hall. I wanted to contact his parents, but that was obviously the sore spot. Maybe his uncle who worked with Link knew something? But it wasn’t like I could just call him up and start quizzing him on his nephew.

  I fished in my pocket for my cell phone, but hesitated before texting Link. I’d just seen him the previous weekend at the Lindstrom party. He’d taken me back to his apartment. When I’d told him I wasn’t ready to sleep together, he’d accepted it, though I could sense the tension underneath. We’d been dating for months, and he’d been more than patient, but I still didn’t know if it was time for the next step. I wasn’t a virgin, but it had been a long time. Did I even know what to do anymore?

  The bell rang, pulling me from my thoughts. If I wanted to help Mint, then I needed to get back to the city and have a chat with his uncle. I pulled up Link’s number and texted.

  Are you up for another visit this weekend? Maybe we can get together with some of your work friends.

  My classroom door opened, and the students streamed into the hallway, their backpacks slung over one shoulder as they chatted and laughed. The phone vibrated.

  Link: I’d love to see you. But since when do you care about my work friends?

  I might as well tell the truth.

  Since Minton Baxter started acting out in class. I’m hoping his uncle might know what’s going on with him.

  Once the last student left my room, I went back in and closed the door behind me. It was my free period before lunch.

  Link: A recon mission. And here I was hoping you just wanted to see me.

  I frowned and sank into the chair behind my desk.

  I do want to see you, but I’m multi-tasking.

  The three dots jumped at the bottom of the text box. Disappeared. Then jumped again.

  Link: All right. I’ll see if I can set up drinks Friday night. Sound good?

  Relief washed through me. He wasn’t mad.

  Thank you. Yes.

  Link: I’m looking forward to seeing you.

  Me too.

  I stowed my cell phone and listened to the noisy students mill around in the hallway until the bell rang. The school quieted, though I could distinctly here Dr. Potts next door giving a lecture extolling the beauty and simplicity of the quadratic formula for finding any solution. I wished it would solve the problems that meandered around in my head. Whether to take my relationship with Link further, what to do about Mint, and the biggest problem of all—why I found my thoughts straying back to Sebastian Lindstrom whenever I had a free moment.

  I shifted in my chair, my memories of him making me uncomfortable and warm at the same time. Closing my eyes, I pictured him, the sharp line of his jaw, the imposing weight of his voice. The way he’d held me as we danced, as if I were a lifeline. Link hadn’t cared for the way Sebastian looked at me or the dance we shared. He kept his jealousy in check, making jokes about how odd the CEO of Lindstrom was, the rumors that swirled around his love life. Link posited that Sebastian was gay, which explained why he was never seen with women. But that dance told me different. Sebastian was a lot of things, but gay wasn’t one of them.

  A sharp rap at my door made me jump. The wood swung inward on a squeaky hinge, and Gregory waltzed in, his ey
es on the stack of mail in his arms.

  “Jeez, Gregory. A little more warning next time.” I stowed my thoughts of Sebastian and gave the assistant headmaster a hard look.

  “Oh, lighten up.” He perched on the edge of my desk. “After all, I knocked.” He smiled, his boyish good looks overtaking my irritation.

  “Did you have a good weekend?” I took a stack of letters from him and tossed them on my desk.

  “Excellent. Went into the city on a blind date. Came out of it sore but satisfied.” He winked.

  “Did he have potential at least?”

  “For long term?” He scratched his clean shaven jaw. “Not even close. I’d have to be a power bottom to keep up with him. I’m more of a ‘lay on my stomach and let him have at it’ sort of bottom. One night only, my dear. And stop trying to distract me. You spent the weekend with Link, right? Some company function? Did you get down and dirty? Give me all the icky hetero details.”

  I glanced to the door. “Keep it down. Just because you’re living la vida loca doesn’t mean I want everyone to know about my sex life.”

  Gregory had been out since high school and had no qualms being himself even in the stuffy atmosphere of Trenton Prep. He’d been a good friend to me since the day I’d arrived, fresh-faced and ready to shape the youth of tomorrow.

  “I’ll keep it down, but give me the details and leave nothing out.” He pointed a thin finger at me. “Nothing.”

  I plucked at the high collar of my forest green dress top. “No, we didn’t…” I fidgeted. “You know.”

  “You denied that handsome man again?” He straightened his already perfect bowtie. “If he were batting for my team, I’d already have taken him on a tour of everything this toned body has to offer.”

  “That’s you. I’m a little more cautious.”

  “He’s perfect for you. Tall, handsome, rich family, big hands, good hair, and I can tell you right now that he’s got it where it counts.”

  Crimson flamed through my cheeks. “You mean—”

  “A package, yeah. He’s got a big one.”